IN THE FREEZER - PART 1
by Charlotte Dickles

SYNOPSIS: Nigel, and his wife, Angela, are happy to offer a temporary UK home to Nigel's Aunt Nancy, following the death of her rich husband Frank, in Australia. On their first evening together, they are absolutely delighted when Nancy signs her will leaving all her fortunes to them when she dies. But wills have to be properly witnessed, and with Nancy's premature departure, someone has to witness her signature. Although the family resemblance is fortuitous, Nigel has reservations about the whole scheme. With just cause, it would appear.

This story is complete but will be released in three parts at daily intervals.

AUTHORS NOTE: Like many of my stories, this is a light-hearted romp which I hope you will enjoy. But it does contain adult themes such as (and the more sensitive readers may wish to close their eyes whilst reading the next 17 words): crossdressing, sex with multiple partners of both genders, illegal acts, getting drunk, humour and extra marital sex. (If you've had your eyes closed, you may now open them.) So if reading material containing those subjects is either illegal or not to your taste (or if you've had your eyes closed), then please do not do it - or at least, don't moan about it afterwards.

CHAPTER 1 - IN THE FREEZER (Friday and the days that led up to it)

"Hi, Angela, I'm home."

Faintly, I could hear her call from upstairs. "Hi Nigel. I'm in the bedroom."

"It's been a sod of a day," I shouted, walking over to our drinks cupboard and preparing to mix a gin and tonic. "Where's Aunt Nancy?"

I'd opened the ice bucket and was grimacing because Angela hadn't filled it, when she replied faintly from upstairs, "In the freezer."

Knowing my normal first action when I came home, Angela was presumably heading off my complaint. I went through into the kitchen, emptied the water from the ice bucket and then got the ice-tray from the fridge-freezer and squeezed the cubes into the bucket. It was a job that I always found so fiddly that I hated doing it, whereas Angela never seemed to mind. Still, by the time she came downstairs, I was sitting down and had taken my first huge gulp of G and T.

She was looking pretty miserable even before I'd told her the news. Part of me wanted to ask her about her day first - to delay the inevitable tale of woe I had to give her - but I knew the longer I delayed, the more difficult it would become to say.

"Angela. I've got the sack."

"What!"

I shook my head, still hardly able to believe the day's events. "The whole computer system went down. Internet banking was off the air practically all day long. As Operations Manager, I get the blame, regardless of the facts."

"But I thought you had a backup system in Manchester?"

I shrugged. "We do. But last year, the Chief Accountant decided we could get a cheaper communications deal with a cable company than we had with BT. I argued that they wouldn't be as reliable, but they promised the earth. When it came to it, the links to Manchester weren't working. We were totally buggered."

"They should sack the accountant instead."

Another shrug. "He left three months ago to work for one of our rivals."

"And you're left holding the baby."

I nodded. "They're actually getting me to resign rather than sacking me. That way, they'll give me a reference and I'll take leave in lieu of notice. But with all these takeovers going through in the industry, it's not a good time to be looking for work in computer banking. Every bank seems to be shedding staff - not taking them on."

Angela smiled at me. "Poor Nigel. No wonder you couldn't deal with my phone call this morning." (I couldn't even remember her phoning, it had been so frantic.) "Still, never mind, you managed to give me a good enough hint about Aunt Nancy."

My heart gave a sudden lurch. Christ! I'd forgotten all about that. An appalling day was just about to get worse - much, much worse - and my mind darted back to last night, and the four days that had led up to it.

***

It had been the previous Sunday evening when everything had started. Angela and I had been rowing about our normal subject - money. She had been made redundant a few months earlier, and whilst I was on a good salary (little did I know what was to come), it simply did not stretch as far as our joint incomes had done a few months previously. But Angela insisted she still needed to buy new clothes for every job interview she took - and to give her her due, she took plenty but with no results so far.

The phone rang, providing a thankful intervention to the row which was going nowhere. Angela grimaced at me and went to answer it. She was gone a long time and I thought she must be chatting to one of her friends, so I started to watch TV. When she returned, she said, "That was your Aunt Nancy, from Australia."

"Really? That's unusual." Apart from Christmas cards, we hadn't heard from her for years.

"She rang to tell us that Uncle Frank has gone," and added, when she saw the lack of comprehension in my eyes, "as in passed away; deceased; died."

"Oh dear. What a shame. Was it sudden?"

"Seems to have been, although she didn't want to talk too much about it. The point is, she's coming back to England, and wants to stay with us."

I pulled a face. We only had a small house, and with Aunt Nancy living with us, three would definitely be a crowd.

"Before you start complaining," Angela said, "one thing she did say about Frank was that he owned a sheep farm."

"A sheep farm?" That sounded interesting. "A big, sheep farm?"

"Nigel, it's in Australia. Sheep farms are either big, or absolutely gi-normous. And either way, I expect they're worth an awful lot of money."

"Do you know, Angela, it'll be nice having Aunt Nancy staying with us. Perhaps we'll be able to cheer her up after her sad loss."

She smiled. "I imagined you might say that. I thought the same."

"How long does she want to stay for?"

"Well, what she's suggesting is that she flies over this week and stays with us for a couple of days. But then she's proposing that she takes us away to a nice hotel for a week's holiday. I told her we were a bit strapped for cash at the moment and she said not to worry - she'd pay for us all."

"Wow!" That did sound attractive. A nice hotel for a week's free holiday. "Any idea where she wants to go?" I hoped it wasn't London. Working in London, one gets a different view of the place to the tourist.

"Do you remember going to Seacombe on holiday as a kid?"

The question took me straight back to my childhood. "I must have been about eight years old, I should think. We all went to Seacombe for a seaside holiday - Mum, Dad and me, and Aunt Nancy came along as well. She was great fun - she really livened up the holiday, and we all had a great time. But shortly after that, she emigrated to Australia, met Frank there, and settled down."

"Apparently Nancy has to visit some shop in Seacombe, so she's suggesting we go and stay at the Grand Hotel there."

"The Grand?" I reminisced, "We used to walk past that hotel on the way home from the beach to our bed and breakfast. Nancy and I would pretend we were staying there, and we'd talk about ordering champagne breakfasts, and caviar for supper. I didn't know what they were then - I do now, but I still can't afford them."

"Well, perhaps that's just what Nancy will order when we go there. Do you fancy it?"

I nodded. "Yes please, and The Grand sounds quite nice as well."

Angela snorted. "Don't you ever think of anything else?"

I sighed, deciding it was diplomatic to suppress my answer.

***

She rang me at work the next day. "Nigel, I've made a temporary booking for The Grand - seven nights from Saturday. I've spoken to Nancy and she's happy with the price and everything. She'll fly into London Heathrow on Thursday morning. Could you have the day off work, and we'll go and meet her? And are you also alright to book the whole of next week off?"

"No problem. There's not much happening here at the moment," I said, blissfully unaware of what was to come.

"Oh, there's one problem, Nigel. The hotel seems to be in a time warp, permanently stuck in the last century. They don't take credit cards by phone, so we'll need to send them a cheque for the 25% deposit. Obviously, Nancy can't do it from Australia in time for it to get there before she does, so is it alright if I write them a cheque. Obviously it'll take us above our overdraft limit, but Nancy says she'll pay us back as soon as she arrives."

She told me how much the deposit was, and I almost had a heart attack. It was getting on for half a month's net salary!

"I guess you'd better," I said. "It would sound churlish otherwise, but you know the bank will charge us for an unauthorised overdraft." (That was on top of the credit card bill interest.)

Anyone might think that working for a bank, one would get special attention - you do, you're treated worse than anyone else!

***

Meeting Aunt Nancy at Heathrow turned out to be relatively easy. I remembered her as a tall, willowy young woman. She was still tall, about the same height as my five feet ten inches, but she'd broadened out everywhere, including, I was delighted to notice, a very nice, round pair of tits pushing through the front of her track-suit. I'd reckoned she must be twenty years older than me, so that made her fifty-eight. However, rather than being almost an OAP, as I'd expected, she was like Joan Collins had appeared at that age. Indeed, her hair was similar to one of the styles that Joan Collins has - you know, where it cascades down to her shoulders and underneath her chin.

"Nigel! My favourite nephew," she said, throwing her arms around me and forcing my chest so hard against those breasts I could feel her nipples trying to pierce me. At the same time, she smothered my cheeks with kisses.

"Nancy, my favourite aunt," I replied, sharing the small joke we'd had when I was eight years old. I only had one aunt, and she, only one nephew.

She turned to Angela. "And this must be Angela," she said. "You didn't tell me she was so beautiful, Nigel." She relinquished her hold of me and went through the same kind of hugs with Angela.

"Have you eaten?" she asked, when she eventually released Angela.

We shook our heads; it was barely midday.

"Well, that's fine," she said. "I had a meal on the plane, so I don't need anything, but I do need to see someone in Slough about the lock on my little jewel box. Slough is quite close to here, isn't it? I rang them whilst I was waiting for the baggage to come through and they're expecting me, so we could pop over there and you could go into a pub for some lunch whilst I go in and see them."

Slough was a bit out of the way, but not significantly, so when we got back into the car, I obediently turned it towards the address she had given us.

***

"Well, that's got that little job done." Nancy sat down next to us in the pub where we'd agreed to meet after she'd gotten her jewellery box fixed. "And I'll have a pint of Fosters, please Nigel."

Angela gave me a look. In her absence, Angela had been criticising Nancy's weight - as women do - and we'd had a bet upon whether she would drink pints or something smaller. I lost. Angela had also suggested the Joan Collins hairstyle was a wig, and the breasts were silicon, but we hadn't placed a bet on either of those, since we thought we were unlikely to discover the answers.

When I returned from the bar with Nancy's drink, Angela said, "You know, Nigel, I can't help noticing how similar you and Aunt Nancy are. Your faces are almost identical."

"Even when he was young you could see how he took after his grandmother, just like me," Nancy said. "He was a really pretty boy, and I think he's still very pretty now."

"Thanks," I said. "That was a bit of a back-handed compliment."

"Well, Angela's absolutely spot on, but her comparison doesn't really say much for my femininity, either," Nancy said. "But I compensated for that by having my tits done." Without a trace of embarrassment, she grabbed hold of her tits and gave them an affectionate squeeze.

Angela gave another knowing nod at me, whilst I tried not to notice the guys at the next table who were openly leering at Nancy. As a distraction, I supped some beer, whereupon Nancy let go of her tits, picked up her lager and started to gulp it down with a speed that astonished me.

"Would you like me to drive home tonight?" Angela offered. "Only someone gave Nancy a flier as she was coming into the pub, about a closing-down sale of evening-gowns and dresses just around the corner. She needs to buy some new clothes for the hotel next week, so I thought I could go with her and help her choose, whilst you stay here and have an extra couple of pints. How does that sound?"

It sounded pretty good to me. They had an excellent cask of local ale behind the bar, and because I was driving, I'd been limiting myself to one pint. It wasn't often that Angela positively encouraged me to drink without close monitoring, and this seemed an excellent opportunity.

So, after Nancy had quickly finished her drink, the two women departed for the shop, and I went to the bar for a replenishment.

***

"Nigel, could you come round to the shop and help carry Nancy's parcels back to the car?"

I had just been finishing off my fourth pint, and was feeling nicely inebriated, when my mobile went off and Angela made her request. Under slightly more sober conditions, I would probably have started to make some comment about the quantity of goods she must have bought, but it had all been extra drinking time for me, and I couldn't care a fig. Angela gave directions, and five minutes later I was walking through the shop door.

"Nigel, look! Nancy's bought me a present." Angela held up a large bag and waved it at me. "It's so lovely, and I'd been thinking I really need something extra for the hotel next week."

She was about to open the bag and show the contents to me, when Nancy said, from the counter where she was standing, "Nigel, this till won't accept my credit card. Could you pick up the tab and I'll pay you later?"

If I'd been sober, I'd have undoubtedly checked the amount before handing over my card and entering the PIN, but as it was I didn't notice it until afterwards when the assistant handed me the receipt. The total cost was the equivalent of more than two months' salary! I sure hoped Nancy settled her debts pretty quickly, or I'd be bankrupt.

***

Dinner that night was pretty good. I'd had a chance to sleep off my excess alcohol, whilst Angela had prepared one of her superb meals. (Well, actually, that meant microwaving the Marks and Spencer packs, and then presenting them on her own serving dishes, but Nancy didn't know the difference.)

Nancy told us about life in Australia, and we told her about our own lives - how we'd met; our jobs; our social lives - without going too deeply into the rather rocky state of our marriage. Conversation was free and easy, and it wasn't until the end that I got the chance to bring the conversation around to more important matters.

"Nancy? I need to talk with you about money."

"Oh, of course!" she said. "I was forgetting. Just a minute, I need to get my papers from my bedroom."

She was back a minute later with a sheaf of official looking documents. "With Frank gone," she said, "it made me realise how vulnerable I felt, and I realised you were the only two living relatives I had.

"Before making it official, I wanted to see you and make certain I felt the same way afterwards, but now I have, I can tell you I've had a new will drawn up, leaving everything to the two of you."

She pulled a foolscap document of thick, legal paper from an envelope, opened it out, and then took up her pen and signed it.

"There. I only need you two to witness it, and it will all be legal," she said.

Angela reached forward for the document Nancy was holding, but I said, "That's no good, Nancy. The solicitor should have explained: the will can only be witnessed by people who don't benefit under the will, otherwise it's invalid. We'll need to get some other people to witness it."

I turned towards Angela. "Do you think it's too late to go round next door to the Sharps?"

She looked at the clock and nodded. "It's gone ten-thirty. They'll be tucked up in bed by now. We can get them sometime tomorrow."

We all nodded. After all, it wasn't as though there was any desperate hurry.

"Talk of bed has got me yawning," Nancy said, demonstrating her statement. "Do you have any drinking chocolate or cocoa?" she asked Angela.

"Oh yes, I'll go and make it," Angela said, rising to her feet.

Nancy firmly stood up. "You've done enough today, already, Angela," she said. "I'll make it. Now, would anyone else like some?"

Angela said she would, but after my pre-dinner sleep I still felt wide-awake. I said I'd stay up for a while and stack the dishes in the dishwasher. It was only after they'd both gone off to bed, that I realised I hadn't asked Nancy for any money.

***

"My favourite nephew."

I'd met Nancy as I was leaving the bathroom, clad only in my pyjamas. She was wearing a full-length nightdress, with a deep-scoop neckline.

"My favourite aunt," I politely responded, trying not to peer down that tremendous valley between her tits. In spite of her years, they were still perfect, and didn't have that orange-peel effect you see on some older women.

"My favourite nephew admiring his favourite view."

I blushed slightly. "Sorry Aunt."

"Nothing wrong with a man admiring a juicy pair of tits. Do you want to see them properly?" She didn't wait for an answer, simply pulled the nightdress off her shoulders and down her arms. The neckline snagged for a minute over her nipples, but then dropped down, exposing a fabulous pair of knockers with rosebud nipples.

I gasped, before remembering that only the bedroom door separated us from Angela. "Look, it's a bit difficult really, Aunt."

"Rubbish," she said, and pushed open the door to our bedroom.

I almost had a heart attack on the spot, until I saw that Angela was lying in bed, fast asleep.

"I'm afraid I slipped a couple of sleeping pills into her cocoa," Nancy said, "because I am bloody hungry."

Her hand darted through the fly on my pyjamas and grabbed my hard prick. She smiled as she gave it a little squeeze and I groaned. "And it looks like you're very willing to feed me," she said, leading the way to her bedroom.

Afterwards, I told myself I had the choice of following, or having my prick pulled off, which was no choice at all.

***

Sex is always good, but sometimes for very different reasons. With Nancy, it wasn't that she kept me on the edge of orgasm for hours, or that she knew hundreds of different erotic positions. It was just a great, straight fuck.

Once in the bedroom, I went to stroke her breasts, but she held both my wrists and said, "Don't bother with the foreplay. I've been jigging myself all the time you've been stacking the dishes. I'm ready for it. Just shag me like a bull in a fucking china shop."

She certainly was ready for it. She had a condom to hand, and she had it slipped over my prick in less than a second. As I entered her, her juices were freely flowing, and as soon as I set up a rhythm, she started groaning and growling - almost like a dog with a bone. Within seconds she was on the point of orgasm. She grasped both her hands onto my arse and started frantically working me against her. Harder and harder - faster and faster. Her growls had turned to grunts, like a pig rummaging in a trough, and then she was coming in a fantastic climax. She didn't scream - thank God or she'd surely have woken Angela, sleeping pill or not - but her breath was coming in huge long rasps and that was the moment when I also came.

I slammed into her, and she used her hands and her legs to force my prick hard inside her; a moment's withdrawal, and then we were slamming together again - and again - and again, until every drop of my semen had squirted deep inside her. (Well, OK, into the condom.)

Slowly, I came to a halt and looked at her. There was a huge grin right across her face, and she looked totally fucked. I closed my eyes, moved my mouth to her breast and gave a sharp, little affectionate bite on her nipple.

***

I awoke with a jump. Jesus Christ! How long had I been lying in bed with Nancy? What time was it? Had Angela noticed my absence?

Nancy still had her legs wrapped around my bum, crossed at the ankles. It must have been an uncomfortable way to sleep, but I guessed she'd had such a long time without sex, that even subconsciously she didn't want to let go. I wriggled a bit, to try to get her to release her legs, but she was dead to the world and I couldn't shift her.

In the end, I had to grab hold of the headboard and pull myself up through those pincer legs, until I could get free. I grabbed my pyjamas from the floor and dashed into the bathroom. I flushed away the condom, thoroughly washed my cock, put on my pyjamas and went to our bedroom and slipped into bed. Angela didn't stir.

***
Back to Friday

Only now, it appeared, that sometime during the frenzied day, Angela had telephoned me about Nancy, and had obtained some kind of hint about what had happened. What the hell had anyone at work said to her? It wasn't as though I'd mentioned last night to anyone. Well, better get it out the way.

I looked around, and smiled. "Where is Nancy? When I asked earlier, I thought you said she was in the freezer." Best to try a little joke to lighten the mood.

Angela looked puzzled. "Er, yes! That's where you said to put her."

It had been a mad day. Angela seemed to have joined the rest of it. "Well, she wasn't there when I went to get out the ice-cubes, just now," I quipped.

"Not that one, you stupid idiot! The chest freezer in the garage."

I looked her in the face, not understanding the joke, but ready to meet her smile with one of my own. Wasn't it great, I thought, that even after I'd told her about today, my wife could still have a little joke like this.

Except that she wasn't smiling! A sudden dread filled my heart. Without saying anything further, I put down my drink and went into the kitchen and through the interconnecting door to the garage.

I lifted the lid. We didn't tend to use the big chest freezer much now, since we'd stopped bulk buying from the farm shop, so it should have been empty, apart from a couple of tubs of ice cream. Instead, it was full of plastic sheeting - what looked like the huge bag in which the mattress for the spare bed had been wrapped when it was delivered - only now it was wrapped around something other than a mattress.

I found the edge of the plastic sheeting and pulled it back, to reveal my worst nightmare. For there was Aunt Nancy, her eyelashes covered in frost!

***

I stared at her for a few seconds, and then turned to Angela.

"Angela. Why have you put Aunt Nancy in the freezer?" Quite a reasonable question, I thought, and calmly put, considering it was obvious Angela must have found out about our illicit sex and murdered her. Perhaps she was just about to murder me and pop me in besides Nancy, but there was no sign of any weapon in her hands. Not even any sign of aggression on her face. This was so weird, I thought. Perhaps the strain of the day has sent me mad.

"Well, I'd thought that was the best thing to do," she said, "even before I telephoned you. Then I rang your office and you suggested the same."

"Angela. I didn't speak to you today. We had the emergency on, you remember?" But hardly as big an emergency as what had happened here.

Angela looked totally puzzled. "No, but Adrian answered the phone and said you couldn't speak, so I told him to tell you that Nancy had gone, hoping you'd understand the hidden message. And when he came back, he said that I should put her on ice."

"Oh my God!" I whispered. I remembered now. With the internet banking system collapsed and the whole office in panic mode, Adrian had come to me with a message from Angela that Nancy had gone out. Big fucking deal! I'd told Adrian to put ANGELA on ice - in other words, get rid of her - and the half-wit must have relayed the message verbatim.

"When did she die?" My mind was scrabbling to find some logical fact I could cling to.

"I found her dead when I went to wake her this morning. She was quite cold by then, and rigor mortis had set in, so there was no hurry to call a doctor or ambulance. It meant I had time to think."

"But why did you need time to think?"

She looked at me as though I was stupid. "Don't be daft. Nancy signed her will last night, but we didn't get it witnessed. Therefore it's invalid. We need to hide her death until a respectable time after the witnessed will has been lodged with her solicitors.

"Bloody hell! You must be joking. It's illegal!"

"Alright, not reporting a death is illegal, but it's not as though we've murdered her or anything. And she properly signed the will, so we're not trying to steal money she didn't want us to get. It's just the paperwork we need to sort.

"Don't forget that she owes us a packet of money," she continued. "I booked the hotel for her and paid the deposit, and you paid for those clothes yesterday - and also don't forget it was a closing-down sale, so they won't take them back. Can we prove she owes us the money?

"And what happens if the will stipulates that Nancy has to outlive Frank by, say, a month, before she inherits. That's often in wills to avoid double-death duties in the event of them both dying within a short time of each other, like in a car accident. If that was the case, she may have no money at all, and we could go and whistle for our overdraft. No, I thought it out fairly carefully, even before I tried to get hold of you, and I'm convinced it was the right thing to do."

"Bloody hell!"

"I was right about the wig, also" Angela said, pointing towards a carrier bag next to the freezer. Aunt Nancy's hair could be seen poking out the top.

I shuddered.

"And Nancy told us her breasts were false, but at the time, I didn't realise how false." She bent down and rummaged inside the carrier bag beneath the wig. "Look," she said, pulling out something large and skin-coloured.

I stared at it. "What is it?"

"They're called Bustlets," she said, holding the object in front of her chest, as she twisted round to face me. Nancy's tits appeared to be stuck to Angela's chest!

"Bloody hell!" I could see now that it was a long-necked, skin-coloured vest, with boobs imbedded in the front. The kind of thing you sometimes see in Joke Shops, only these looked very, very realistic.

"They look very good when they're on her," she said. (Well, I knew that!) "I almost didn't notice them, but they were a little too tight for her, and there was a slight indentation where they met her skin. If she'd only recently taken off her bra, I wouldn't have thought anything of it, but since she'd only been wearing a nightdress, it looked a little strange. I felt the indentation with my finger, and then realised the whole garment came off."

She turned back to face the body in the freezer. "She looks very different now, without her wig and boobs. But still, just look at the lovely smile she had on her face when she died. I think she died happy, knowing that we were going to inherit her money."

I looked at her face again, and saw the same smile on her face as she'd had last night, as she'd come to a heart-stopping climax! Oh my God! And I'd lain inside her for ages after she'd died! I shut the freezer with a slam and went back to replenish my G and T.

***

"I don't think the Sharps will witness her will, just on our say so that she signed it in the first place," I said to Angela when we'd gone back to the lounge and each of us had a large G and T in our hands.

"Of course, we can't even ask them to," Angela replied. "It would be far too suspicious."

"So does that mean we have to forge the witness signatures?"

"That would be dangerous as well. It only needs some other person who feels they should have inherited to start checking things, and we could end up in prison."

I shivered at the thought. "Well, what then?"

Angela smiled at my air of desperation. "Nancy's booked to go to The Grand Hotel tomorrow, for a week. No one knows her there, so if someone else registers in her name, who's to know the difference. And then what would be more natural than that a few days later, she asks a couple of the staff to witness her signature on a document?"

"Of course," I said, as Angela's plan came clear to me. "With the wig and the boobs..."

"The perfect disguise," she said. "Especially if we ask the male staff to sign and she's wearing a dress with a low-cut cleavage."

"Brilliant! But what about... later? Finding the body, you know. And if there's an autopsy, won't they know the body's been frozen?"

"I think it's important not to rush it," Angela said. "Too many people come to grief because they try to do that. So, after our holiday, we send the will to the solicitor, and tell him Nancy will use our home as a base, but she intends to travel around the country for a few months, doing some sightseeing.

"We'll need to keep an eye on the weather forecasts, choosing our moment carefully. At the right time, Nancy will go for a holiday in a cottage in Snowdonia or Ben Nevis, or somewhere like that. She'll be seen walking by herself for a few days, and then there'll be a nasty snowstorm, and she goes missing. Eventually, they find her frozen body buried under six feet of snow. Poor Nancy."

"Absolutely brilliant!" I sat back and considered Angela's masterpiece. "Fantastic and... Hang on, there's a flaw there."

I thought for a moment before continuing. "Look, it could be that one of the police or mountain rescue guys sees Nancy walking in the area before her 'death'. When they find her body, they'll immediately realise that it's a very different person from the person they saw walking."

Angela stared at me, and said nothing.

"Well, you must have thought of that, Angela. You always think of everything."

Still Angela said nothing.

"OK," I said, "Do you not understand what I'm saying? Nancy is about five feet, ten high, and quite stocky, whereas you're only five, six and very slim. Even with Nancy's boobs on, they're not going to mistake you and Nancy for one and the same person."

"Right," she said. "And similarly, at The Grand, if anyone asks the witnesses to describe Nancy, they'll need to give a plausible description."

"Precisely!"

"So we'd need someone about five feet, ten inches high, with a face that looks quite similar to Nancy's."

Her words were like a blow in the stomach. "No!" It was absolutely ridiculous! "No way!" Totally preposterous! "You must be out of your mind! It would never work."

"Why not?"

"I couldn't pretend to be a woman."

"Well Nancy never seemed to try very hard to be like a woman, apart from the hair and tits."

There was one other way in which she'd been a woman, but I didn't want to go into that.

"Look," Angela said, "I realise you've had lots of shocks to the system today, and you'd probably like time to think about it. The problem is, we haven't got a lot of time. If we go along with my plan, we'll be checking into The Grand tomorrow afternoon. So my suggestion is that, rather than trying right at this moment to decide Yes or No, let's assume you're going to do it, and if you want to withdraw tomorrow, that's fine.

"We could even go to The Grand with you in disguise and still decide not to get the witness signatures if we think you've been rumbled. After all, it's hardly illegal for a man to dress as a woman. And if you're very good, as I intend you to be, no one will rumble you."

I shrugged. She was right, and given that we already had a dead body illegally stored in our freezer, one might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.

***

We spent the whole evening getting me ready for tomorrow. Firstly, I had to strip naked, and then Angela applied wax all over my body, covered it with bandages and then ripped the bandage off again, taking with it my body hair and most of my skin. Hell, it hurt! How do women go through that all the time?

Perhaps I should have protested, but secretly I knew I had to grin and bear it. Thank God Nancy had made me use a condom last night! Without it, my semen would be in her vagina, frozen along with every other bit of her insides. Come the post-mortem, as she would undoubtedly have, they would have been able to analyse the DNA to show that, immediately prior to her death, Nancy had sex with a close relative.

Of course, Nancy only had one male close relative, so regardless of where her body was discovered, under what kind of highly credible conditions, the suspicion would be pointed directly at me! And if I were shown to be several hundred miles away at the time she supposedly died, there'd be a lot of very searching questions asked. Even if, by some miracle, I managed to avoid a criminal conviction, our marriage would be abruptly ended.

As it was, if we could pull off this incredible deceit, I'd be saved. So, as Angela ripped off my skin, shred by shred, I took it in the same way that a member of Opus Deus bears the self-flagellation, until finally, the agony was over, and Angela was smoothing cream over what was left of my skin.

"I suggest you try on the Bustlet now," Angela said, "and see how it fits. Then, we can put some make-up on you. I'll need to teach you the basics of make-up, so you can do it yourself, especially when you go into the Ladies and need to touch it up."

I guess I should have been horrified at the thought, but actually, once the waxing was over, I started to enjoy the thought. Suppose I could get away with it - go into a smart hotel and have men admiring my boobs pushing out the top of my dress. The very idea was so erotic, it brought a flush to my cheeks.

Angela looked at me and for once gave me a sympathetic smile. "I know it's horrible for you Nigel, but it's not only going to get us out of a bit of a financial mess, it's also helping Aunt Nancy to have her dying wish fulfilled."

Personally, I thought I had already achieved that, but that was a comment which could never be aired. Instead, I put on my brave face, and said, "Let's give it a go."

"Great."

Angela took the Bustlet out of the carrier bag and we both looked at it a bit more closely, before trying to fit it onto me. It was in the form of a short, sleeveless vest, but with a long neck which would stretch right up to the chin, with the huge pair of boobs pushing out the front. I wasn't certain what it was made of - I guessed some kind of nylon, with silicon inserts - but it looked, and felt, just like real skin, although perhaps slightly more tanned than my own.

Fortunately, the join under the chin could be disguised with make-up, and the shoulders of a dress or a blouse would hide the point where my arms protruded through the armholes. The join at the lower edge would be hidden at the front underneath my boobs, but the difference in the tan would probably be obvious at the back. Still, since I wasn't intending anyone other than Angela to see that, it wasn't going to be a problem.

I held my arms straight forwards towards Angela, and she fed the garment over them and down towards my head. It was a terrible squeeze getting my head through the narrow neck, but when it was done, Angela could pull the garment as far down my body as it would go. One final stretch and she was satisfied.

"Wow, you look fantastic!" she said. "Perhaps I ought to get one, as well."

I looked down at the breasts protruding from my chest. "Bloody hell! They look good."

And, not only did they look good, well... they felt good. Does that sound weird? How could inanimate objects sewn into the garment I was wearing on my chest have any kind of feeling? But I could feel the way they gave a little b-o-y-n-n-g-g-g as they wobbled under their own weight. I raised my two hands to cup them and give them a firm squeeze, in the same way Aunt Nancy had done in the pub on Thursday.

"Jesus!" I screamed. "Hell, that hurt!"

"What is it?" Angela was shocked by my scream. She moved to touch my breasts as though they were real and they needed a stroke.

"Don't touch them!" I yelled, grabbing her by the wrists and holding her hands well away from my tits. "They're alive. They bit me."

"Don't be stupid. They can't be alive. There's nothing inside them."

I shook my head. "I don't know what it is, but when I gave them a squeeze, it was as painful as when you were waxing my chest, just now."

"That's unbelievable. They simply can't..." She paused for a second and then said, "Look, I promise I won't try to touch them, but close your eyes and tell me what you can feel."

Still holding her wrists, I did as she bade. "Nothing really, except that... U-u-g-g-h-h!" It hadn't been painful, but certainly I felt something brush my left nipple. I opened my eyes, but Angela was still standing as motionless as before. "What did you do?"

She was shaking her head now. "That's incredible," she said. "I simply blew on the nipple, and you felt it. Look." She gave another little puff from her mouth, this time at the right nipple on my Bustlet. Again, I felt it.

"Hell!" I said. "That really is amazing. The Bustlet has got sensitivity. In fact, it's extraordinarily sensitive. When I grabbed them, the way I sometimes grab you, it was incredibly painful. I don't know what they'd be like if you did something incredibly painful to them, like giving them a nip with your teeth, or something..."

It was fortunate I'd pretty well finished my sentence as the realisation crept in. Nancy had physically prevented me playing with her tits last night, in much the same way that I was now holding Angela's wrists. I hadn't thought anything about it at the time, but afterwards, just as I was dropping into my post-coital slumber, I'd given her an affectionate bite on her nipple and now she was dead.

"What is it?" Angela was trying to interpret the look on my face.

"I don't know. Something seems wrong, somehow. I mean, it's great having false tits which are sensitive, but these are just too sensitive. I'm frightened to let you touch them. That's not how tits should be; they should be a delight to play with."

"Well you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Angela said with a sarcastic smile. "But you're right. Your breasts just seem wrong. I wonder if there's some setting underneath we can get at and adjust. Do you want to take them off."

I shook my head. "Yes, I want to take them off, but No, I'm not going to let you touch them. It's absolute agony."

"Well, we have to get them off. Clearly, you can't go to the hotel screaming every time someone joggles your tit. Do you want to see if you can slowly work them off by yourself?"

Thirty minutes later, we had to admit defeat. I'd tried my best on my own, and then Angela had carefully tried to help, all to no good. Every time a breast was even joggled, I was in agony.

"What the hell are we going to do, Angie?" I asked in desperation.

"I suppose we could try to find who the suppliers are, and ring them up."

"What, in Australia?"

"Well, at least it will be the start of their day, rather than the evening," she said.

"Yes. The start of a Saturday morning," I cried. "They may not even be open today, and we don't know the name of the supplier, anyway. I'm going to be stuck in this forever. I shall probably die in it, just like Aunt Nancy."

"Well, at least I'll get some peace," Angela said.

CHAPTER 2 - I DO LIKE TO BE BESIDE THE SEASIDE

I was interrupted from further panic by the phone ringing. I was closest, so I picked it up.

"Is Mrs Brown there?"

Damn! We'd only been running the conspiracy for a few hours, and not only was I trapped inside a woman's breasts, we now had a woman looking for Nancy.

"I'm sorry, she's not here at the moment. I'm Nigel Simmons, Mrs Brown's nephew. She's staying with us. Can I help you?"

"Hello Mr Simmons. This is Toni from Big Busts in Seacombe. Mrs Brown was due to visit us tomorrow sometime, but she was going to telephone today and confirm her arrival. Can you confirm she is still intending to come, and what time it might be?"

I was about to fob her off, when it struck me.

"Sorry, did you say 'Big Busts'?"

"That's right. We manufacture a range of goods, including head and shoulder busts."

"But it's not just head and shoulder busts, is it? You also manufacture big busts, as in a Bustlet. Is that right?"

"Well, yes, we do manufacture a number of other products, including the Bustlet."

"It's just that my Aunt Nancy... well she's gone away for a few days and she left her Bustlet behind, saying she didn't need it for the time being - it was too sensitive, and we could use it, and, well..." I took a deep breath. I had to say the words; there was no point in delaying them. "The silly thing is, I tried it on and now I can't get if off." The last few words came out in a rush - I felt so stupid.

"You mean you tried on Mrs Brown's Bustlet?"

"I know it's absolutely stupid. I mean, it's not as though I'm homosexual or anything, it's just that..."

"No, no! It's not stupid at all, and your sexuality is of no concern to us. In fact, we have lots of heterosexual male customers who enjoy wearing a Bustlet. No, it's just that I was surprised that Mrs Brown left her Bustlet with you, without warning you it was faulty. She was coming in tomorrow to change it. So, can I just confirm that you're wearing the Bustlet now?"

"Yes, and the problem is, it's so sensitive, I can't get it off."

"Alright, it sounds as though you've got the sensitivity level set too high. We warned Mrs Brown not to go above five. What have you got it set to?"

"Sensitivity level? Er, I'm not certain what it's set to or how to change it."

"Do you have the remote control?"

"Hang on." I turned to Angela. "It's Big Busts in Seacombe. They're the company that supplied Aunt Nancy's Bustlet."

She nodded. "I gathered that."

"They say there should be a remote control unit. Have you seen it?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I don't think so. I'll go upstairs and have a look."

I told Toni that Angela had gone to look for it and, added, "Did you say the unit was faulty."

"Mrs Brown telephoned us last week, and from her description, it sounded like she'd got a fault on the unit. That's highly unusual, they're normally very reliable."

"A fault? That sounds quite dangerous."

"Well, it could be if you had it on a high sensitivity setting, which we warned Mrs Brown against. The skin of the Bustlet is made of material like a touch-sensitive computer screen, and there are electrodes in contact with your own skin that simulate those sensations. If there is a fault on the unit, it could result in a nasty electric shock. It could be lethal in the extreme."

I checked Angela was still upstairs, before I asked, "So if she had sex with someone and they gave her nipple a bite..."

"Oh! Don't even think about it. We suggested to Mrs Brown that she stop using the Bustlet, but she insisted. So we gave strict instructions not to use it above a sensitivity setting of five. From your own reactions, it sounds like she left it on quite a high setting. The important thing at the moment is to find the remote and set it much lower."

Just then, Angela came back in the room waving a remote.

"OK," I told Toni, "we've found the remote."

"Simply point it at the front of the Bustlet and press zero," the woman said.

Angela heard her words and did as commanded. In an instant, my breasts changed from super-sensitive orbs, detecting every breath of air in the room, to totally inanimate objects, as I'd originally expected them to be.

"Phew! I think that's done the trick." I gently touched my left breast with a finger. Nothing. I gave it a harder squeeze. Still nothing. "Yes. Thank you so much. I was getting into a real panic, there. I thought I'd be stuck in it forever."

"Glad to be of service. Now, did you say your aunt has gone away for a few days? Presumably, that means she won't be bringing the Bustlet into our shop in Seacombe."

"My wife and I are coming down to Seacombe. We could bring it in."

"That would be excellent. Er... did I understand you to say that your aunt had now lent you the Bustlet?"

"Yes, she did. She said she wasn't going to use it."

"I'm sorry she's stopped using it, but we did advise her to discontinue until the fault was fixed. However, if you're now the owner of it, then we'll be happy to give you a proper fitting for a new Bustlet to replace the faulty one. And to make up for the pain and discomfort caused to you this evening by the faulty appliance, we'll also throw in a free Hiplet, as well. If you'd like one, that is."

"Er, what's a Hiplet?"

"It's a garment we've developed in response to demands from our male customers who want to look convincing women. It's a bit like a long-legged control brief, only it has padding from knee to hip, to produce a much more female shape. Like the Bustlet, it is absolutely lifelike, so it's very difficult to tell it from the real thing."

"Well, I expect there's one way," I said, with a smirk on my face.

"Not at all," she said, detecting my innuendo. "The Hiplet has a built in vagina. You can enjoy full heterosexual sex as a woman wearing a Hiplet."

"Bloody hell! Well, I don't need that."

"The choice is yours. If you want to look a convincing woman, then you need a Hiplet, and we only make them to be absolutely realistic. How you use it is your choice, but we'll be quite happy to give you one to make up for the pain you've suffered tonight. Does that sound acceptable?"

"That sounds great."

"Alright, what time will we see you here?"

"Can we make it about two pm?"

"See you then."

SATURDAY

Toni in Big Busts was, appropriately, a very big-busted woman. (I couldn't help wondering if her breasts were enlarged with the aid of a Bustlet; I rather suspected they were.) She had a skin as black as any I had ever seen, and she greeted us with a broad smile.

"You're early, Mrs and Ms Simmons, but that's no problem at all."

Her smile was infectious, and I grinned back. "We made good time, and we've just had a nice lunch." And I very self-consciously added, "Please call me Nigella."

As we were getting dressed this morning, I'd suggested to Angela there was really no point in wearing Nancy's Bustlet, since we were going to change it anyway, and that I should drive down to Seacombe as a man. Of course, Angela had overruled me.

"You need to get the feel of being a woman straightaway," she had said. "You haven't got much time before you have to be really convincing. After all, if you need to buy some petrol..."

"But I do," I'd interjected, "that's why..."

"That's a very good reason why you should go en femme," she'd said. "It will give you some practice in front of others. If you're detected, it's not the end of the world and if you're not, it will give you some confidence."

"But I'll have to pay for the petrol. My voice..."

"You spent all last night practising your voice. It's time to give it a trial with something simple. After all, you'll only have to give the number of the pump and say thank you. You should be able to manage that, shouldn't you?"

It was true. I'd practised with a tape recorder under Angela's guidance for hours. In the end, we'd managed to find a voice which I created in my mouth, rather than deep down in the throat, and which we thought would probably fool most people. If I couldn't do something as simple as giving a pump number to a bored assistant, there was no chance of success of the rest of our scheme.

So I had put on the Bustlet and wig, and dressed in Nancy's tracksuit. Then, Angela had made-up my face, so I looked - and felt - quite presentable, and I'd actually managed perfectly well in the filling station. It was true, I'd only had to say, "Three," in response to the assistant's "What pump?" and then "Thank you," but I'd come out feeling a whole lot more confident than when I'd gone in. So much so that Angela had coerced me into going into a roadside cafe for lunch! Again, I'd had no problems.

As for my new name, we'd agreed that we shouldn't involve Toni in any part of our deceit, and that I should say I was simply changing my gender as an experiment. Angela had proposed my new name, Nigella.

So, now I was facing Toni. She knew I was a male in drag, yet she seemed to have no awkwardness about the situation. I might just as well have been Aunt Nancy.

"Alright, get stripped off, and take off the Bustlet, and we'll see if we can find a better skin match for you than the one you have at the moment."

"No," Angela said. "I think we'd better stick with the original shade of skin.

"After all," she added, turning towards me, "Aunt Nancy will probably want it back at some stage, so she'll be very upset if the Bustlet doesn't match her skin."

Christ! Angela was right. If I'd had a colour to match my skin, it would have stuck out a mile, when Aunt Nancy's dead body was found, if her Bustlet didn't match her skin.

"Of course, I was forgetting that," I said to Angela. "Alright, we'll stay with the same shade."

"No problem," Toni said. "I presume that doesn't apply to the Hiplet, though. You'll want that to blend in with your own skin."

I was going to say it didn't matter as there was no way anyone other than Angela was going to see it, but Angela spoke before I could.

"Oh yes, please." In response to my look at her, she added, "Well, you might want to have a swim in the hotel pool. I'm sure we could get a nice bikini for you."

"Before you go buying the bikini," Toni said, "remember that Nigella is going to be very large around the hips. She may not look that good in a bikini."

Angela look perturbed, and said, "Oh, does she have to be that large? Nigel has a lovely trim bottom. I was rather hoping Nigella would be similar."

Toni shook her head. "I'm afraid not," she said. "The problem is that Nigel has wide shoulders. Unless we pad out Nigella's hips to compensate for them, she will look like a man dressed as a woman, regardless of the size of her boobs. That's the most important feature of the Hiplet; it gives a person wide hips, even though that's the very shape that most females want to change.

So, by the time we left Big Busts, I had a figure that Angela despaired over.

"I thought you would make such a lovely woman because you had nice slender thighs and legs, not fat like mine." (As usual, Angela was exaggerating the size of her body.) "Now, you're really fat."

"Thanks," I retorted. "How am I supposed to have any confidence when you make remarks like that?"

"Oh, don't worry, darling. No one could possibly imagine that you could be anything other than totally genuine. After all, no one would TRY to make themselves look like that." She gave another look over me. "Well, I suppose you do look quite similar to Aunt Nancy, and that is the reason we're going through all this."

"I'm glad you reminded me of that. After the way you were gloating over my changes, I thought we were doing it to fulfil your own fantasies."

Angela actually blushed, but I should have known better, because within seconds she came back fighting. "Oh yes? Well, who was it that had a massive erection in there, when you saw the woman you'd turned into. It's a good job we elected to go for the red gel to stick down your Hiplet. Once we'd got your monster under control, we couldn't afford the risk it might escape again."

"Well, it was a pretty cruel way the way you got it under control," I said, responding to Angela's point. "Hell, that hurt."

Toni had explained to us that Hiplets needed a gel to prevent perspiration forming, and that there were two options: green gel was fine for a few hours wear, but for longer term wear, the red gel was recommended, which sealed the pores and totally prevented perspiration. I'd be able to wear the Hiplet comfortably for ten to fourteen days. After that, my top layer of skin, to which the Hiplet would be glued, would be shed, and I'd be able to take off the garment. After Toni had explained that I wouldn't be able to remove the Hiplet for that period, I'd said I thought I should use the green gel, but Angela had taken me aside and told me in no uncertain terms not to be a stupid idiot, and that I had to use the red gel. So red gel it was.

With the Hiplet in place on my hips, and only the gusset to pull back between my legs, there had been one part of me preventing that - the enormous hard-on to which Angela had referred. There was no doubt I found my new shapely figure very erotic. But with the gel setting, there was limited time to get everything in place. Angela had solved the problem by giving my erection a hard slap. My rampant prick had promptly shrivelled, and just as promptly, Toni had pulled the gusset into place and my genitals had disappeared from my sight for a whole fortnight.

"I wouldn't worry too much about your willy," Angela said. "At least, it can have a little rest for a few days now. I think it's been too demanding recently." (God, if only she knew how recently!) "Anyway, two women going to a hotel together are bound to get a few offers over the course of the week. You'll probably get lucky."

"Jesus Christ! You don't think that blokes will try to pull us, do you?"

"Of course they'll try to pull us. I shall be mightily upset if they don't. And since my husband isn't here to satisfy me..."

"Angela!"

She laughed at me. " If it makes you feel a little safer, we can pretend to be lesbians. But from what I hear, men see that as more of a challenge."

"Oh hell! I never thought about that side of things. I'm going to be in the shit, aren't I?"

"At least your voice is much better now, after Toni gave you those pills. However, you do need to speak as a woman would speak, and that kind of comment is most unladylike."

Toni had produced a pack of Voice-Changer capsules. I had to let the capsule rest on my tongue until it melted, and then let the goo slide down my throat. For a minute, it had felt as though I'd drunk sulphuric acid but afterwards, my voice had gone right up in pitch, and now sounded as sweet as a nightingale.

However, Angela was right; I certainly needed to get in character as a woman, which meant talking like a woman.

"OK," I said, "let us girls go check in the hotel and have a great time."

"That's better," she said.

***

The hotel was superb. Angela had booked the Victorian suite, and she checked in for the pair of us (which reminded me that I still hadn't managed to extract any money from Aunt Nancy's bank account.) The spacious sitting room was located between the two bedrooms, with a Chesterfield suite of armchairs and sofa. A beautiful Victorian dining table and chairs were located in the bay window, with a French window leading onto a balcony, directly overlooking Seacombe's main beach.

In the master bedroom, there was a four-poster bed, but even the secondary bedroom had a canopy over the bed; and both had superb bathrooms and walk-in closets.

"Wow," I said, bouncing on the four-poster, "if only I wasn't wearing this silly get up, we could exercise the bed-springs."

"We'll have to see what we can do, later," Angela said.

(Presumably, I thought, she was hoping to get a good tonguing, tonight. Hell, that would be frustrating with my prick encased in glue.)

"In the meantime," she continued, "I suggest we go and explore the hotel. It will give you a good chance to get acclimatised to being a woman, and for members of the staff to see you and get to know you."

"Do you think that's wise?" I had a bad attack of nerves. "I mean, I might blow it completely, and then we'd have to abandon the whole idea."

"I can do most of the talking, but what's important is that people see you around the hotel, and know you by name. That way, when we get round to asking for signatures on the will, they won't question things. As we said before, even if a disaster occurs and you're rumbled, you haven't done anything illegal so far. Remember, I checked us in, so they couldn't even have you for passing a false cheque."

It was true. Everything was fail-safe up to now - apart from sticking the body in the freezer - and we wouldn't try to get the signatures until I was fairly confident of pulling it off. So, we did a tour of the hotel, promenaded through the grounds, tripped across the road to the beach and spent only a few minutes amongst the riff raff there, before returning to the tranquillity of the hotel.

"Fancy a drink before we go up to change for dinner?" Angela asked. "I'll order them." (That was a pleasant change - it was always me who had to do that.) "Is it the normal pint of lager for you, Nancy?"

"Thanks Angela," I said. At least, Nancy had been a beer drinker - even though it was only lager - which meant I could follow suit. A gin and tonic was all right for a quick injection of alcohol after coming home from the office, but I still preferred beer for most occasions. Perhaps sometime during the week, an adventurous woman like Nancy might graduate onto that cask of local real ale I could see behind the bar.

I glanced around the bar area, looking for an empty table. At that time in the late afternoon, there were plenty free, but I couldn't help noticing how many of the hotel residents gave friendly smiles of welcome. I chose a table next to a couple of guys who I thought might have heard the football results. They had given me the friendliest smiles of all.

"Are you here on holiday with your friend?" It was the taller and younger of the two who'd spoken.

God! What had I done? I was trying to avoid conversations with people, not have a nice chat about what a superb hotel this was, or even how Chelsea was getting on and which team was going to avoid relegation.

"Angela's my niece, actually, and yes we're on holiday here for a few days."

There, I'd answered his question; now hopefully he would shut up. But as I looked more fully at him, I could see he was obviously one of those guys who fancy themselves as God's gift to women; especially unattached women like the image that Angela and I must present! I guessed he must be in his early forties.

"Nice hotel. Have you stayed here before?"

Shit! Why couldn't he leave me alone? But I already knew the answer to that - he was male and I was unattached female. At least, he plainly didn't suspect a thing. I gave a glance at the bar. Angela had got our drinks and was waiting for her change. She gave an encouraging smile to me, and nodded, eagerly, urging me to continue the conversation.

"It's my first time here. I've been in Australia until recently."

The shorter man now joined in. "Australia? Great. I was out there last year. Where did you live?"

Oh my God! Where did I live in Australia? I'd been worrying for the last twenty-four hours about trying to pull it off as a woman, to the total exclusion of all other issues. I didn't know the first thing about Nancy's life.

Angela saved the day. "Here's your lager, Nancy. Did you always drink that in Australia?"

I nodded. "Mostly."

"Hmm. That explains why you're overweight."

"I was just talking to your aunt, and she was about to tell me where in Australia she lived. I was out there last year."

"Oh really," Angela replied. "That's nice." She turned towards the taller of the two, and with a flash of resourcefulness which amazed me, added, "Tell me, have you heard the football results today?"

"Chelsea won, 2 - 1," (Well done, Angie! Chelsea won. Great. If only all problems could be solved as easily.) He proceeded to reel off another dozen crucial results, ending with, "Want to know any more?"

Angela shook her head. "No, it was those I was interested in. Thanks."

"It's unusual in this kind of hotel to get a woman asking for football results. Especially a really pretty woman."

(Cheeky bastard, I thought.)

Angela flashed him a smile. "Thanks. But it's for my husband. He won't have had chance to listen to the scores today."

(Well done, Angie. That's shown him you're not going to be picked up.)

"Oh, is he in the hotel then? I'm surprised he didn't watch it on TV."

"Oh no! He's not here. He hopes to come down in a few days. No, he's having to do a special job at the moment, so in the meantime, it's just the two of us, all on our own."

(Hell, did she have to put it like that. It was almost as though she was trying to get us picked up. I could almost predict his next words.)

"Well, it's always a shame for people to have to dine on their own. Why don't we eat together this evening? My name's Jake, by the way, and this is Simon."

"This is my Aunt Nancy and I'm Angela. Thanks for the offer of dinner, but it's our first night here. I think we'd rather dine alone tonight." (Thank God she'd said it at last.) "Perhaps later in the week?" (Bloody hell! What are you doing, Angie?)

"That would be great... Oh, are you going now?" (This as I downed my lager and stood up.)

"I'm afraid we have to change for dinner," Angela said. "See you later."

***

"Bloody hell, Angie. What the hell are you..." I had to break off as a couple I guessed were a few years older than us came up and joined us, waiting for the lift.

"I'm only being friendly," she said, "and I do think, aunt, that you shouldn't get too excited if a couple of guys try to pick us up. You have to get over your husband's death sometime, and you're still young and good-looking. You should regard it as a compliment when that happens."

"I wish men chatted me up," the woman said, and we both smiled at her. She added, with a good-natured smile, "It's usually Pete, here, that manages to get chatted up by members of the opposite sex."

Pete gave a nonchalant smile, "It's always tough that women find me irresistible, but I guess some men have to be that way."

Angela and the woman found this incredibly funny, but I simply smiled politely. I wanted to stay in character, and I wasn't certain how Nancy would have reacted to him.

Thankfully, the lift arrived then and we all got in. We had the ritual, "What floor do you want?" and then the woman said, "My name's Mary, by the way, and you've already met Casanova, who goes by the name of Peter."

"I'm Angela, and this is Nancy, my husband's aunt."

We all smiled at each other.

"Are you here all week?" Angela asked.

Mary nodded, enthusiastically. "Yes, we are," she said. "We were hoping to meet another nice couple who we could enjoy our holiday with."

"That would be great," I said. It had suddenly occurred to me that Mary and Pete would make an excellent couple to befriend as witnesses. Whilst Pete might enjoy chatting me up, it would be under the supervision of Mary, so was unlikely to prove dangerous. And I really should make an effort to behave more friendly, as no doubt, my aunt would have done. "We can have lots of holiday fun together," I added.

Both Mary and Pete appeared really pleased with my suggestion, and Angela gave a nod of approval. But any talk of further plans was interrupted by the lift arriving at our floor.

"As it's the first night, we were planning to eat alone," Angela said. "But why don't we get together tomorrow sometime?"

"Sounds great," they both said, as the lift doors closed on their smiling faces.

"Well, I'm glad you got talking at last," Angela said, as we entered our suite. "I thought the way you suddenly stood up was quite rude to Jake and Simon. Aunt Nancy wouldn't have been like that."

"Angela, those two blokes were trying to pick us up. That's why I was like that, and you seemed oblivious to the danger. I was friendly enough to Mary and Pete."

"Look," Angela said, as we entered our suite. "I'm trying to get you in character. Aunt Nancy was a gregarious woman who, judging from what she told me in the dress shop, fancied sex with every man in Adelaide. She certainly gave a few lecherous smiles to some of the husbands who were in the dress shop with their wives. If it weren't for the fact you were her nephew, I'd have kept a pretty close eye on you two whilst she was living in our house."

(Gulp!)

"So if she was really staying here, she'd probably have been playing Strip Jack Naked with those two guys in the bar, by now. Why do you think she had those enormous tits, if it wasn't to say, 'Come and get your hands on these, sport.' "

"Bloody hell! I never realised she was like that." I had to think about what she had said. "But you can't expect me to copy Nancy in that respect!"

"All I'm saying," Angela said, "is that Nancy would have behaved very differently from the way you were intending to behave. Alright, that may not be critical. But if anyone does investigate the signing of the will, you can bet they'll come here and be talking to the staff about what she was like. If they say she was a retiring violet, they won't believe it was Nancy who signed the will."

"Why didn't you tell me this yesterday? It totally changes everything."

Angela smiled at me. "That's why I didn't tell you. If you'd known you had to go out and pull a few blokes, you'd have refused."

"Of course I'd refuse! I can't pull a bloke."

"Why not?"

Her question took my breath away. "Why not? Why not! It's obvious, isn't it?"

She smiled again. "No."

I gasped in shock. Here I was, a bloke, married for a decade to a reasonably attractive woman, both of us faithful to each other (until Thursday). OK, we had our disagreements but in the space of one day, she'd got me dressed as a woman and was suggesting I had sex with men.

"I'm not homosexual, for God's sake."

"I never suggested you were. But for the next week, YOU ARE Nancy Brown, and she was a woman with a sizeable sexual appetite. You have to act in character. And whilst you're in her character, having sex with men is not homosexual, it's heterosexual."

"But I don't fancy sex with men."

"I'd be surprised if you did. But you won't be doing that because you fancy it; you'll be doing it because you ARE Aunt Nancy. Don't you remember Toni saying you could have full heterosexual sex?"

"But she didn't mean with unsuspecting men; she meant with men who know I'm a man and want to simulate heterosexual sex."

Angela shook her head. "I wondered about that myself, so I asked Toni directly."

"And?"

"She said that provided he wasn't the size of a donkey, you should be able to fool an unsuspecting man into having sex with you. But she also added that a man might cut up rough if he discovered what you were doing.."

My turn to shake my head. "Bloody hell! Cut up rough? He'd cut off my fucking balls! And you're suggesting I have to lay back and think of England for the good of the cause?"

"Absolutely. Or to put it another way, lay back and think of your bank balance and a body in our freezer. Either you are going to be a very believable Aunt Nancy, or we are going to be in real trouble."

"But how do I know Toni is right about this? It's easy for her to say a man won't notice the difference, but if he does, it's not only the end of our personal project, it's probably the end of my life. I'm not particularly keen on either event."

Angela gave me a sympathetic smile. "Look, it's first night, right? It's definitely bad taste to drop your knickers on the first night, so tonight it's just you and me. And we can explore the capabilities of your new body. Alright?"

I agreed. It crossed my mind then that Angela had probably brought her vibrators, which she kept at the back of her bottom drawer, but which, until now, she had never introduced into our relationship. I wondered whether they would work on my pussy. Time would tell.

...and I'd also love to read your comments. Although this story is not a mystery, like many of my stories it does contain a few twists which hopefully you were not expecting. Some of you will have your suspicions, but in the time-honoured way, please do not spoil the surprise for others by airing them in a comment.

In other words,