If you’re of a sensitive disposition, and maybe explicit description of the joy that a crossdressed husband and his crossdressed wife can have in intimate love-making is not to your liking, then please return to the series of chapters that make up the story of Andy, Christine, Astrid and Christopher.

There will be further delights contained in the chapters to come. For those others who believe that a man and a woman can be a woman and a man, read on!

Chapter 9B — The Five O’Clock Fuck (starts in the same vein as chapter 9)

Astrid had climbed the stairs and progressively shed different pieces of her outer-, then her under- wear, leaving them at different places up the stirs. The bra and panties, she kept on into the bedroom where, in the minute or so before her wife arrived, she was able to touch-up her lipstick and brush her hair. The shedding of the clothes was certainly erotic. The shoes were cast off immediately — outer wear suited to country walks. They could be replaced with her stilettos later. The rolling of the stockings down to her ankles and then their hanging on the stairs was pure luxury.

The skirt and then the blouse were lovingly placed where Andy’s ‘husband for the night’ could not fail to pick up if he wanted access to their bedroom. So, when Christopher entered, there he found Astrid, standing at her dressing table in just her bra and panties, oh, yes, and the stiletto-heeled shoes she loved so much. Andy was finishing the re-touching of his lipstick before brushing the hair that would, tomorrow, be the bridge between the couple and Heidi, their ‘mole’ in village society.

Christopher stood in the doorway to the bedroom and said nothing, just admiring her ‘wife for the night’. Pretending not to notice, Astrid picked up the hairbrush that lay on the dressing table and, looking straight into the vanity mirror, carefully lifted three or four curls from around the crown of her head and back-brushed them, everso gently, just to give some renewed height and style. Tomorrow, highlights will make me look so much more girly, Andy thought to himself. He could hardly wait.

Still in his male attire, albeit with the unbuttoned shirt which Astrid had disturbed, Christopher was still very much the male. Christine’s tits were uncomfortably bound and her chest was notably flat compared with the ample breasts that Andy admired and loved to fondle so much. Andy turned and, with a brief startling motion, reacted to a man seeing him dressed as he was, near naked, in heels, in only his bra and panties. Christine looked so much the male.

A beautiful burgundy satin dressing gown was draped across the back of the chair and was only a hand length away, so Andy swept it from its resting places and swirled it around himself, thus emphasizing the femininity of the Astrid he had become. The stiletto-heeled shoes cried out to be worn, so Astrid bent down to slide them on to her superbly feminine feet. Andy imagined wearing these beautiful creations all day long, binding smooth stockings that he would choose to wear.

“Why, Sir! I didn’t see you standing there!....” Looking up, Astrid breathed in almost a Marilyn Monroe-esque invitation. “…Come in, please do.”

Christine was silent and, after a brief pause, stepped into the room, saying nothing at first. She wanted the maleness that she had created to linger. She wanted the power that this beautiful woman, her husband, was prepared to offer.

Her mind, for an instant, wondered what she was doing now. Was she a lesbian? Was she a transgendered woman becoming a male? Was she just a woman in love? She reached the instant conclusion that she was just that. A woman in love. In love with a beautiful woman who just happens to be her husband.

Then he spoke, Christopher taking control. “You look wonderful, my darling….. I love the shoes and those heels are to die for. They make you so, oh so, attractive. You stand, so… provocatively. Come into my arms please, darling, do so, now. I need to hold you in my arms.”

Astrid looked at her husband, still dressed as he was but with the open shirt that betrayed her gender by revealing the binding across Christopher’s tits. Astrid ignored this distraction. She wanted to be held by this man, this handsome man. Though the same height as she, Christopher somehow became larger than life in Astrid’s mind. She sank into his arms and looked upward into his eyes. Into what he knew were Christine’s beautiful eyes.

Astrid’s tongue passed over her crimson lips and invited a kiss. Christopher felt a yearning between his thighs where there was no cock but should have been. Christine thought to herself, “I have to fuck this woman, somehow.” She looked towards the drawer beside the bed where she knew she would find the toys that gave her so much pleasure. She would be able to be so indescribably sexy that Astrid would be hers… all hers…. All night!

Astrid continued to look up and her thoughts were much the same as her husband’s. “I have to eat this man’s pussy, and I have to do it soon!” Andy’s consciousness of his bra and panties was heightened. His feeling of the shoes that made it difficult to stand up was heightened. His desire to live as a woman was heightened. If tomorrow would bring a chance to live as a woman, he would be exhilarated. If Christine were to be his husband or his wife, he didn’t care. Whatever she found to give herself pleasure, he would work hard to confirm.

Standing together in their bedroom, as they had done before, with Andy dressed as he was, but so rarely with both of them crossdressed, the moment of decision arrived. A decision that neither would take alone, neither would discuss, but that each would know was the right one. Would it be soft and slow and gentle and relaxing and luxurious? Or would it be a rampant, half-crazed fuck that would be over in minutes but that would meet the needs they both were feeling.

There was time to be soft and gentle.

There was time to be slow.

There was time to luxuriate

But, instinctively, both knew it wasn’t now ……not now. Now was the time for passion. The time was for a fuck of devastative intensity. They were woman and wife, and man and husband and they were ready for a fuck.

Astrid pouted her beautiful red lips and inched upward to Christopher’s waiting mouth. Again, she licked those lips and Christine fell upon them in a tight and tongue-dominated game of oral ‘explore me’. Looking behind Astrid’s head into the vanity mirror, Christopher saw herself in almost a Clark Gable pose.

Astrid had fallen into his arms, now he would pleasure her all the way as far as he was able. No cock, but he had his mouth. And Astrid had no pussy, but she had pleasure zones to explore.
The kiss between them was urgent, almost violent. It pointed towards that ‘no return’ place where day became night, light became dark and cold became hot, quiet became noisy…… and orgasms just kept on coming… or cumming!

Christine reflected, just for an instant, how lucky she was to be a woman. How lucky she was that she could experience orgasm after orgasm, increasingly intense, unlike Andy who would cum only once. She would try to let Astrid into the secret of multiple orgasming.

Masterfully, Christopher firmly but gently pushed Astrid’s shoulders back and moved her waist inward towards him. Naturally, she buckled at the waist and went down on to the bed. Astrid wanted to kiss Christopher’s pussy and to explore within him to reach his labia, his clitoris and his G-spot. Astrid knew where they all would be found. Strangely .........in a man… but they would be there. But Andy didn’t get the chance.

Christopher had already parted the folds of the burgundy gown, revealing Astrid’s bra and panties.

Her legs were folded and the heels of her shoes dug into the mattress, raising her thighs to where Astrid’s cock could easily be seen covered only by the lace of Andy’s panties. His hard-ons were never truly hard, Christine knew, but the intensity of the fantasy they had created as sufficient. Christopher knew that he could take a full cock into his mouth and indulge Christine’s deepest desires.

As he went down, Christopher’s hand delved into the drawer of toys that were oh so familiar. His hand came to rest on the vibrator that he, Christine, held as her favourite. She often indulged herself with it in quite quiet times some afternoons, when the house was free. Christine knew that Astrid would enjoy the vibrator, the way she herself did. Maybe this was the way to help Astrid join the club of girls who can cum time and time again?

Once engaged in orally pleasuring Astrid, Christopher took the lacy panties that had been pushed aside of Astrid’s cock and twisted them around the near-hard penis she held. Tightening it, Christopher found that Andy’s penis responded well. Indeed, it grew beautifully. Christine enjoyed the sight and covered Astrid’s balls with her lips. Christopher didn’t share the male concern that, whoever sucks your balls might bite! He sucked ever harder and Astrid flinched only once.

Andy, laying back, thought only that, for once, he wouldn’t actually care if he lost his bollocks in a fucking accident. What would he care? If he had no balls any longer? He still had his bra tight around his chest. He still had his panties across his abdomen. He still had those beautiful shoes on his feet. He still had lipstick on his lips. He still had his eyes made-up quite glamorously. And he still had his hair beautifully set, albeit somehow mussed up from the last few minutes’ fucking.

He, Astrid, was in heaven. And in went the vibrator.

Not far, thought Christopher. Us men don’t give up our virginity that easily. And Christine knew that Andy had always been resistant to being penetrated. A very little, for a first time, would be all a loving husband would do for him. After tensing herself suddenly, Astrid relaxed. And the vibrator went in a little further…. And out…. And in again….. And out again.

Without warning, Astrid reached orgasm and her cock gave up its load. Christopher licked it up greedily as Christine always did. It was involuntary. Astrid was unable to control herself, much as she had intended to. Out of breath, she fell back into the pillow. She had wanted to save herself for later. She had wanted to give her husband a good time too.

But there was plenty of time for that.

Christopher sat up from his crouching position over his wife’s body. He looked in amazement at the ripples of burgundy satin that were strewn beneath Astrid’s body. The bra she was wearing remained tight. The panties were all-but invisible, like a thong, no more. Andy’s, or Astrid’s, cock was now limp and tiny, laying on a fold of burgundy fabric. This was truly a she-male.

Christine had seen movies and books, but she had never really believed that it was possible to create something so beautiful that “she could be a he” without gender reassignment. That a man could reaches such a stage where has was a woman, but wanted to go no further with a transition. Christopher looked down at Astrid in wonderment, and love.

Instantly, she wished that Andy would, or could, experience a second and even more orgasms. At that moment, she wanted Andy “inside her”.

The time for more intense passion was now. To revive Andy. To have him fuck her as Christine. But also to love her as Astrid would.

The time was right to remove the masculine and concentrate on the feminine. Her femininity.

She removed the shirt that had been unbuttoned in the original foreplay. She removed the binding from her breasts, allowing them to respond to the stimulus of their freedom. Her nipples hardened. The tits took a more swollen shape. Christine lifted both with the palms of her two hands and offered them to Astrid as she lay on the bed. But before Astrid could move, Christopher’s last vestiges were gone. The trousers she wore were tightly belted around her waist and it was only a heartbeat before the belt was released and the trousers fell to the floor. Beneath, Andy saw that Christine had the most beautiful pair of white lacy panties and her maleness seemed to melt away. His wife’s femininity made the most sudden come-back imaginable. Her tits had indeed been bound, and had cried for release, and her panties invited a tongue to push them aside. Astrid’s tongue was, indeed, very ready.

Christine raised her right hand and ran her fingers through her slicked-back hair, ruffling it into a tousled mess, neither manly, nor girly, but inviting to the touch. In an instant, the couple were engaged in a deep and long, and quite penetrative kiss. As woman and….. whatever Christine chose to be.

She chose to be female. She chose glorious femininity.

She went to the vanity mirror and selected a different lipstick to that worn by her husband still lying on the bed but now following her every move intensely. As Christine returned braless to the bed, Astrid enjoyed the way his wife’s tits moved like they always did. Clamouring to be taken in hand and kissed and loved. So that was what he did. As soon as Christine reached the bed, Astrid rose and clasped the woman’s head, running hands through the no-longer male hair and pulling the face closer, pulling their mouths into contact. Merging their two lipstick shades together and enticing eachother’s tongues into battle. Soft, caressing battle now. Each encouraging the other now. To take full advantage of their femininity.

Within moments, Astrid’s face was buried in Christine’s bushy love nest. Her tongue already exploring the inner folds of the labia that were now thoroughly wet and lusting for more. Christine reached down between her own thighs and spread the labia wide apart, so that Astrid could reach every corner, fold and crevasse. So that her tiny clitoris would get the attention of this passionate female.

Astrid knew what Christine was wanting, but played a teasing game with her fingernails, first stroking her lover’s labia and then mildly scratching the hood of skin that almost but not entirely covered her clitoris.

Christine was losing contact with the reality of the situation. She gently pushed two of her fingers into her pussy and began to search for her own G-spot. Which was easily found. She pressed hard and softly, in alternative pulses as her orgasm rose, Andy’s face buried once more and his tongue pushed Christine into the ecstasy she had been dreaming. Her hips began to arch and the thighs either side began to shudder as she final found herself able to cum. Exquisitely.

Astrid, by now, had revived from Andy’s earlier orgasm and, though again not entirely hard, he had enough to lift himself into the right position alongside Christine who had raised one thigh to open access to her pussy for Andy’s penis. Not having to support himself above her, but approaching her from behind, he slipped inside his wife at just the right moment… as she was to cum for a second time. Lucky girl! Thought Andy. One day I’ll be able to do that!

--oo00oo–

Enough already! I hear you cry!) let’s leave our lovers to recover and return to the main theme of the story of The First Queen in the Village!

Whether you have read chapter 9 already or have yet to read it, go back to resume where we had got to!