So what happens after Darlene Proposes Marriage to Jenny - She has to meet the family, of course!

Darlene Meets the Family

By Ricky

Jenny
Nervousness is a relative state, how you cope with it varies with its degree. For the mildly nervous a cup of tea and a minute to relax might be all that's needed. For something a little more difficult, say showing your license to a traffic cop, a stronger drink might be in order. For a profound case of nerves a long hot bath and a the services of a good masseuse might suffice.

In the case of my fiancé, Don, putting on a dress, wig and makeup usually has a salutary effect after a disquieting day. That usually works, as I said, but today it was the cause of his nervousness, not the solution.

My thoughts involuntarily returned to my Aunt Betty's living room last Sunday. I was seated next to Darlene and my Aunt was recovering from the shock of our engagement while cousin Kathy was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

"Aunt Jenny said I could be a bridesmaid, mom. Isn't that cool! I've never been in a wedding before."

About this time Uncle Roger, as usual a little behind everyone else, arrived on the scene.

"Who's getting married, Kathy?"

"Aunt Jenny and Darlene, daddy!"

That one took him aback. Kathy is sort of hard to follow at the best of times, but this time it wasn't her fault.

"Sit down, Roger." Said Aunt Betty. "This is going to take some explaining. Darlene, you do agree to some relaxation of patient confidentiality under the circumstances?"

Darlene agreed. After all it's not every day one of your former patients decides to marry your niece. So Aunt Betty did her best to bring Uncle Roger up to speed, with the three of us chiming in as needed.

"Well Betty," said Uncle Roger when we stopped talking, "you seldom bring your work home from the office, but when you do it's a doozy. Darlene, if Betty thinks that highly of you I won't dispute her even if I think you are as crazy as a loon. Sorry dear, not professional language but I'm off duty and this is family."

"Perfectly acceptable, Roger. We psychiatrists understand the foibles of mere mortals." She turned to my newly declared love. "Since there are none of my patients present I can safely tell you that those of us in the helping professions usually get there as a way to try to figure out why we are crazy. I make no exceptions for anyone in present company."

"Egad — I married as sharp tongued serpent. Kathy, bring me a forked stick to protect myself."

"Daddy!"

"No one helps the poor, beleaguered father in this family! Darlene, I hate to admit it but a man in a dress might raise the overall sanity rating of this family appreciably, as you will learn when you become privy to the family secrets. Kathy, take a good look at your aunt-to-be. I suspect she could teach you some things about proper deportment and wardrobe.

"Oh no you don't Roger!" replied Darlene. "I may have to put up with Charlene's insistence I be a role model for Jenny, but there is no way I'll take on the job for a girl of Kathy's age. Now if you're interested I would be glad to loan you a bra and give you some makeup tips."

"Call the exterminator! The place is crawling with snakes, sharp tongued serpents that lash me about the ankles and prick my vanity!"

"Oh, shut up Roger. Be nice to Jenny and Darlene or I'll start telling a few stories myself — from your side of the family"

"I guess that puts the whole family in the know except Harry, eh? I would truly love to be a fly on the wall when he finds out!"

In all the confusion I had managed to forget daddy, maybe because I was trying to. I just didn't know how to tell him. I sure didn't want to.

"Perhaps Charlene and I should be the ones to break it to him. I think it would be best that way." Offered Aunt Betty.

Relief flooded over me and under her makeup Darlene started to regain her color as well. Hell, it hadn't been an hour since she proposed, we hadn't thought that far ahead! True to her words Aunt Betty picked up the phone.

"Aunt Betty! She doesn't know we're engaged yet!"

She nodded, then told mother she would be coming over without telling her why. She looked directly at me as she hung up the phone.

"OK Jenny. That's done but it comes at a price. I want to be a bridesmaid, too, and I would be satisfied to stand beside either bride at this wedding."

A round of Champaign was followed by another round of hugs, with Uncle Roger gamely squeezing Darlene when his turn came. I always knew Uncle Roger was a sweetheart. We finally made our escape and returned home, where we went to my apartment and waited nervously for Aunt Betty's phone call, but it never came. Oh it rang, but it wasn't her.

"Daddy? Uh ,hi daddy."

Darlene was at full alert, staring intently at the phone in my hand.

"Well, it just sort of happened. I really wasn't planning it but …"

I was tongue tied, making a fool of myself.

"Yes, I love him daddy. You don't think I would have said yes if I didn't?"

Would he ever stop talking and let me explain?

"Saturday for dinner? OK. Darlene will be here on Saturday, I promise.

No, he wouldn't stop talking! Help me!

"I love you too, daddy"

The phone went click. I put the receiver back in the cradle and grabbed Darlene.

"He's coming to dinner on Saturday. They're all coming, all four of them! Aunt Betty told him he should meet Darlene first! He's gonna do it!"

Which brings me back to being nervous. In abut two hours my parents would arrive and Don was still Don, chopping veggies and playing the Master Chef.

"Don honey, aren't you playing things a little close? I mean I want them to meet Darlene at her best."

"Yeah — just let me finish the zucchini. Its OK."

"Don? Since when have you ever put off getting dressed?"

"It' OK, Jenny, just a little more time…"

"You're scared! You're scared of meeting my father aren't you? I never would have believed it!"

"Aw Jen…"

I plucked the knife out of his hand and kissed him soundly.

"Don, I love you as Don, I love you as Darlene. If I love you and my mother can accept you then my father can damn well join the club! You are going to be at your most beautiful tonight and he will damn well appreciate you! I'll finish the vegetables while you march over to your apartment and you are not to return until Darlene is ready to knock my old man's socks off! Git!"

I shoved him out the door. See what I mean about nervous? That's world class nervous, guaranteed to have all the judges holding up cards with '10' printed on them, even the ones who took bribes. You just can't imagine anything more nervous than a crossdresser afraid to crossdress!

I finished the veggies and headed for the bathroom myself, I wasn't about to have my mother see me less dressed up than Darlene, not tonight. Sure I'm casual, but since I started going with Don, Darlene has started to rub off, much to my mother's pleasure.

I showered and resorted to the hair dryer then headed for the bedroom I shook my hair out and looked at myself in the mirror.

"Not bad for an old maid." My mother's voice seemed to ring in my head, not that she'd actually say anything as crass as that, but she definitely had thought it! My reflection stared back. Five foot ten ,eyes of — what the hell rhymed with ten? I was tall enough to be a model, but I liked to eat. Middling short, brown hair with the blond highlights that Darlene had put there a couple of weeks ago. Gray eyes, the usual compliment facial features. Good teeth thanks to the sadistic orthodontist I had as a kid.

There were pretty little blue stones hanging from a pair of ears that could have been a couple of sizes smaller. OK, so I've been putting it off. Big chest, small tits. 36B since I know you won't be satisfied unless I tell you. How I exercised and prayed they would grow until at 20 I finally had to accept they were as big as they would get without a doctor's assistance. Maybe someday I ought to borrow a pair of Darlene's falsies just for the fun of having big boobs for a day. Darlene has told you that I have the other usual major sexual organs, so I'll just say I have good legs and leave it at that.

By now Don would have finished shaving and be looking in his own full length mirror. I sometimes wondered how he saw his own reflection. He stood an inch or so taller than I did. His hair was kept short, the better to wear a wig. It was dirty blonde and very fine, good for running my fingers through. His eyes were undeniably blue, set in what had to be called a nondescript face. This was a good thing because it didn't scream "I'm a man" when he was dressed as Darlene, but was easy to look at when dressed as Don.

I had measured his chest at 40 inches the weekend we met, and right about now he should be valiantly trying to compress his waist into a corset. While I wouldn't want to wear one I had to admit it was a pretty thing. The panels were black, with red garters and lace edging. The cups were smooth globes of satin designed to push up and enhance the breasts, or in this case breast forms. It had scads of little metal hooks and laced from the front so I didn't have to help him dress today.

Half an hour to go! I quit daydreaming and put on my own bra, a mundane white but what I needed with the clothes I was going to wear. I guess I was going to have to wear pantyhose today, much as I hated them. I'll never understand what Darlene sees in them, let alone fooling around with garters and stockings. Yeah, I know he tells me stockings are better for a woman equipped with testicles, but I still don't get it. Pantyhose are an expensive, fragile pain in the ass. Literally, sometimes. Socks are so much better, but today was put on the Ritz for the parents day so I put them on and put my feet into a pair of flats.

I draw the line at high heels, no way I'm going to crush my toes and cramp my legs for some jerk's idea of fashion. Besides I'm tall enough without a couple of extra inches under me.

I thought of Darlene, I would bet anything about now she was standing in front of the mirror, playing with her garters. They say women are slow getting dressed, but if I'm not there to push him along he'll spend forever getting the falsies positioned just right or admiring the lace on his body instead of getting on with it. Maybe I should call and make sure she wasn't daydreaming. Nah — he was flustered enough. I realized I must be flustered as well, I was mixing my pronouns even in my head.

Darlene was all excited about the long, new black slip she had bought for the occasion. I could picture her, arms upraised, wiggling into it. Mom and dad had better appreciate this, slips were number two on my list of things fashion designers should have forgotten to invent, right after pantyhose, but the dress I was going to wear really needed as slip. Darlene sneers at the few 'church dresses' I keep in the closet, in a nice way of course. Meeting my folks was a special occasion and Darlene insisted we go shopping. Shopping with Darlene is almost fun, she gets such a kick out of perusing the racks and ferreting out the best deals. I tried to talk her into matching outfits, but she didn't think that was such a good idea. Dad was going to have a hard enough time coping, no need to be too cute.

Darlene is cool as the proverbial cucumber when shopping, completely unafraid to slip into the changing room and try on an outfit. Force of personality, I guess, no one has ever said anything, at least when I was with her. Since it was well into fall the stores were full of winter clothes, even if Indian summer seemed to have settled in. That meant the closeout racks would have bargains on summer clothes, and as frugal shoppers that's where we started. Not much there any more, but Darlene came up with a striking pale yellow dress, high waisted, full, flowing skirt and contrasting embroidery along the bodice and hem. I thought it was for her at first, but she handed it to me and insisted I try it on. I had a hard time picturing myself in that dress, but I have grown to trust Darlene's fashion sense.

Feeling a bit foolish I emerged from the dressing room and looked in the mirror. She was right! The dress did flatter me, the cut was generous enough to fit my non-anorexic body and the skirt positively flowed as I moved. Oops, my bright red bra and panties showed thorough a little too well! (Passing thought — I didn't wear colored bras before I met Darlene.) The saleslady expressed approval, probably genuine since something from the cutout rack wasn't going do much for her commissions. Even with a dress on I'm still a cynical bitch!

Darlene had been busy while I was changing. She held up two outfits. The first was an off white skirted suit, the other a deep green skirt and blouse combination. The long, bell-like sleeves and ankle length slit skirt on the green outfit were just her style. Not a bad combination, light and dark to contrast each other.

I stopped daydreaming and wiggled into my new white slip, then put on the dress. As I did my makeup I hoped Darlene was well ahead of me there. I used a bit more makeup than I am comfortable with, mostly so Darlene wouldn't look overdone, ran a brush through my hair, settled a pair of blue feathers on my ears and went to check supper. 15 minutes to go — where was she? Time was running out and I had one more thing to do before my folks got here.

At last the door opened and Darlene made her entrance. She was stunning, the outfit suited her perfectly Her wig was a mass of shoulder length curls and she had limited herself to a single gold bracelet. I took the little box from my purse and, feeling a little bit silly, I knelt before her.

"Honey, it isn't a diamond, but I know you love emeralds. Will you marry me?" I opened the box and slid a ring on her finger before she could reply. "I didn't think it would be right to be the only one with an engagement ring."

We had to hug very carefully so as not to mess up the makeup, but I knew I had made the right choice. Then the doorbell rang and it was show time.

"I'll get it, they're my folks. You go look domestic in the kitchen."

I opened the door to greet not my parents but Aunt Betty and Uncle Roger, who were a bit ahead of schedule. My uncle was bearing two bunches of roses, one white and the other red. With a flourish he handed me the red bouquet.

"I couldn't discriminate between my lovely hostesses so these are for you and the other bunch for Darlene. Lead on, my dear, so I can complete my mission!"

I felt Aunt betty's hand on my shoulder as we watched Uncle Roger present Darlene with the flowers. She was stunned by the gesture of kindness.

"Roger, how beautiful! I've never had anyone give me flowers before. I can't tell you how wonderful this is!"

In spite of his sharp tongue my uncle is a good man. He hugged Darlene without any sign of embarrassment. We were searching for vases when the doorbell rang again. No doubt of the guests this time. Before I could answer, Darlene went to the door.

The three of us looked at each other in consternation. My unflappable aunt actually fluttered her hands like a teenager. Like a scene out of a silent movie the three of us jammed into the doorway to the front room. We HAD to see what would happen, not just hear it!

What happened was my mother hugged Darlene and took her hand. She turned to my father, who looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Well Harry, this is it. This is the infamous Darlene. Darlene, my husband Harry."

It must be something built into the male genome. I swear my father actually stepped back and gave Darlene the once over, not even trying to hide his scrutiny. I don't think anyone in that room was breathing except him.

"Hello, uh, Darlene. I expect you're damn well as worried as I am about meeting you, not that the rest of this family has given us diddly squat for choices." He paused and his eyes swept up and down Darlene once again. "I'm not sure what I expected, but you don't look half bad. I say we need to sit down to dinner and try not to choke on it by being too damn polite. That OK with you?"

He held out this hand and Darlene took it.

"It sounds like a good deal to me, Mr. Bosch"

We started breathing again, all of us at once.

"Make it Harry, or maybe Dad if you can stomach it." Daddy looked around at us with that wicked look he does so well. "Well, what did you think, I was going to eat him or her or whatever? I don't know what you see in him, Jenny. Hell I can't even see the him in him right now, but we brought you up to have good sense and if it damn well hasn't taken by now we aren't going to change it tonight. Lets eat, already!"

I haven't mentioned it yet, but Darlene is one terrific cook, she reads cookbooks like most people read novels. Her kitchen is full of them and she had been working all week to put together a spectacular feast that hopped over borders and oceans with gay abandon. With the suspense broken we all suddenly had enough spare attention to appreciate the heavenly aroma that surrounded us. Fitting six of us into the apartment required we be rather cozy at the table; to my surprise dad chose to sit next to Darlene, at least when she had time to sit.

I brought in the appetizer as they were settling down, Greek grape leaves stuffed with rice and chiles and mint mixed with yogurt and lemon. Mom and dad never were too adventurous in their cuisine, but they dutifully sampled our offerings. Dutiful turned rapidly to grateful as the delectable morsels melted in their mouths. There was no conversation other than staccato bursts of "Wonderful" and "Delicious" before the soup course. Darlene filled the bowls and I presented them.

"Caldo Verde, it means 'green soup' in Portuguese It's kale, beans, potato and sausage. Darlene has a way with sausages, you know." The bowls were half empty before conversation started again.

"Perhaps I should be the one to start the traditional inquisition." That was Uncle Roger, of course. "So tell me Darlene, how did you meet my niece?"

"I picked her out of my laundry basket one evening a few months ago. No, really — she tripped with her laundry and we started talking as we sorted it out. We hit it off and started seeing each other."

"Jenny tells me you are a machinist." That was Daddy. "Somehow I just can't picture you standing at a lathe."

"Well, I do tend to dress a bit differently at work, uh, Harry. I think I would probably start a riot if I came in as Darlene. Actually, I'm spending more time helping Bill Gates take over the world than I do running a machine these days."

Daddy is an engineer, he raised his eyebrows at that.

"These days almost all machining is computerized. We have a lot of machines that are all from different manufacturers and programmed in different languages. Microsoft is pushing something called OpenCNC to consolidate everything in one language and I spend most of my time on that these days."

That had daddy off and running, but the conversation was incomprehensible to everyone but Darlene and him, so don't expect me to tell you much of what was said. Suffice it to say that the two of them were getting along famously by the time the Hungarian roast lamb came out of the oven.

I'd rather talk about the lamb anyway, Darlene had poked a zillion holes in the lamb and filled them with pieces of garlic. About an hour before it was done she had surrounded it with thinly sliced potatoes that roasted along with the lamb and soaked up all the juices. Along with the lamb was Basque Lecas, green beans stewed in tomato, onion and garlic. It took a little while before the conversation resumed."

"Darlene, if I wasn't already married I would be on my knees for the sake of that lamb alone." That was uncle Roger.

"Oof!" That was Aunt Betty's elbow.

"I married a shrink because I thought she would understand my little foibles and here she is assaulting me over a little attempted bigamy."

"Roger, Darling, continue eating. You make more sense with you mouth full. Darlene, I want the recipe for these beans, they're wonderful. How did you learn to cook?"

Good old Aunt Betty. She had to know the answer but it did get the conversation onto a topic that the rest of us could appreciate.

"Actually, it started out by making tea. My sister is four years older than I am and I was so proud when she let me make the tea. Every once in a while we would have tea parties where she dressed me up in her old clothes while mother was at work. My father had died before I knew him and we were alone at home from the time my sister was old enough to take care of me. I must have been about 7 or 8 when she first let me make the tea. It just kind of grew from there, as long as I was in the kitchen I would help her get dinner ready.

Being dressed as a girl in the kitchen became almost natural. As I grew older I discovered I enjoyed cooking and hated washing dishes; my sister was perfectly happy to clean up afterward. I just kept getting new cookbooks from the used book store and trying new recipes."

My mother had her patented 'I don't believe this but I'm too polite to make a scene' look on her face. "What about your mother? I can't believe she approved of you wearing dresses?"

Darlene gave a rueful laugh. "You haven't met my mother. I wouldn't say she approved, but she's an unreconstructed hippie even today. She was determined to raise her children as free thinkers and without cultural bias; trucks for my sister, dolls for me and we both had dance lessons and ball teams. Even so, I think my crossdressing sometimes strains her capacities. I was young enough when June started dressing me up that she thought it was cute. By the time I hit puberty I was hooked and dressed up whenever I could. Not that I spent all my time home in a dress, I hung out with the guys, dated and did all the things teenage guys do, I just had an extra interest at home. Since June is a few years ahead of me I was able to wear her old clothes all through High School."

"Do you still see much of your sister?" asked Uncle Roger.

"She and her husband moved to Chicago so we only get together at holidays these days. Mom still has the farm in Pennsylvania and we try to make it back for Thanksgiving and New Year."

"Call me overcurious, but do you go for these visits as Don or Darlene?" daddy asked.

"Both. Obviously I enjoy being Darlene, but the image takes a good deal of upkeep, shall we say. Since June still gets a kick out of going out with Darlene I bring all the necessities so I have the choice. When I go home it's nice to kick back and relax. To tell you the truth, tramping in the woods or going fishing are much more enjoyable as Don. Jenny tells me you are a fisherman too, Mr. Bosch."

Well, I wanted Darlene and daddy to get to know each other, but I really hadn't planned to have the rest of us frozen out of the conversation. For the second time that evening they were off and running and the rest of us waited for enough normal English words to enter their conversation so we could figure out what they were saying. Aunt Betty just looked at me and smiled, it looked like Daddy was hooked.

"We were planning on spending next weekend at the cottage if the weather holds, perhaps you and Jenny would like to join us? Don't get me wrong, but I want to meet Don, too."

Darlene raised an eyebrow at me, one of her most endearing little quirks.

"Of course we would love to come, daddy," I replied, "but on one condition."

It was daddy's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"You have to promise to talk about something the rest of us can understand for the rest of the evening."

"I second the motion!" cried Aunt Betty. "Jenny, let me help you clear the dishes before dessert."

We hustled and bustled and danced around each other and dessert was soon on the table. The Italian peaches stuffed with ground almonds and covered with Mascarpone cream rendered further conversation unnecessary.

The rest of the evening passed happily, a happy family gathering with my love being accepted despite his crossdressing. As we closed the door I fell into her arms and collapsed. It had been as perfect an evening as I could have hoped for, except for the damn dishes. Darlene is a great cook, but she still hates doing dishes. I firmly took her to the kitchen, but tonight her idea of helping was to hand me a dish and then caress my breasts as she went for the next one. One by one my blouse buttons came loose and soon her fingers were tunneling under my bra. I was determined to get the dishes done before we went to bed, but it was getting harder and harder to do.

Do a couple of glasses left on the counter count as cleaned up?

Darlene
Friday evening came and the weather was unbelievable for the fall, Indian Summer had moved in for the duration, it seemed. It almost felt strange to be going away for the weekend and not packing all the things I would need as Darlene. We were waiting with only two bags and my fishing gear when Jenny's folks pulled up in their van. Her father opened his door and got out.

"Not many men can say they have to meet their future son in law twice, I guess. He held out his hand and I shook it. "Well, son, Hollywood lost a talented artist when you decided to go into the trades."

Whew! We arrived at the cabin a few hours later after an uneventful ride. Once again I was nervous. Even though Charlene had found me in bed with Jenny there was that age old question nagging me: what would they say about my sharing a bed with their daughter?

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it was a cabin in name only. If it wasn't set on a lake in the woods I would have called it a normal suburban house from the outside. The place was beautiful, plank walls, fireplace, complete kitchen and three bedrooms. I needn't have worried, Jenny led me to the middle door in the hall and we dropped our suitcases inside. The room was obviously Jenny's from childhood, decorated with mementos of her summers at the lake: painted rocks, pressed leaves, plaster figures covered in tempera paint and pictures of her and her family. We settled in and joined her parents in the living room where her dad was kindling a fire despite the unseasonable warmth. We spent a pleasant hour just talking before going to bed, the fish were waiting and we (or at least Harry and I) wanted to be up early.

How is it that when the alarm rings on a weekday my body refuses to obey the commands of my mind and get the hell out of bed but on that Saturday morning I left the warm body of my beloved behind and was up before the sun rose so I could go out to kill me some fish? Just as well to ask a crossdresser why he does it, you won't get a coherent answer to either question. Harry had the coffee brewing and bacon frying when I emerged, I think I was going to like my father in law. We didn't talk much at breakfast and were out on the lake when the sun rose.

I found myself at a disadvantage. When I go fishing I mostly throw a hook over the side of a pier and wait for the bobber to bounce around. Harry was a dedicated fly fisherman, and I had met the type before. The few times I've used a fly I relied on the salesman to tell me what to use for the fish in the area, which usually worked well enough to feed me dinner. Harry, on the other hand, took it as his duty to inform me of the joys of fly fishing. He tied his own flies out of such unlikely things as rabbit fur, feathers and bits of plastic. He went on about egg patterns, nymphs, streamers, speys, soft hackle wet flies, Caddis flies and such, each with it's own intended use and body of fishing lore.

I'll admit I was getting a bit bored, but I suppose If I started going on about cinchers, breast forms, garters and other details of my favorite hobby he might have been just as bored, so I nodded occasionally as I flipped my pole and reeled in the fly he had selected for me. The sun was just breaking over the trees when I felt a hit, conversation stopped as I worked the fish and eventually landed a 15" largemouth bass. Not a bad start for the morning.

We fished companionably in silence for quite a while after that. There was really no need for conversation as we floated on a beautiful lake surrounded by the glorious fall colors. The only sound was the buzz of our reels and the swish of casting for quite some time. Finally, Harry broke the silence.

"Well, son, I've been trying to think of an easy way to work up to the subject but I'll be damned if I can think of one so I'll just ask. Why the devil do you like to wear women's clothes? Betty has tried to explain it but it to me but I just don't get it!"

"Harry, as strange as it sounds I think you have the answer. I told you my sister started dressing me up before I could remember, I've had ten years or so to try to answer that question and I just don't get it either. I can give you bits and pieces of why, but I don't think anyone has the complete answer or ever will." His questioning expression bid me to go on.

"I'll be honest with you, sex plays a part in it. When I was a horny teenager getting dressed was a major turn on, but I didn't talk about that part with my sister or mother. I wasn't really ashamed of wanting to wear women's clothes, but I certainly didn't let any of my friends know I dressed up. A couple of my sister's college friends who visited the house during vacations knew, but nobody local. Once my hormones settled down the sex angle really became part of the background, but it's still there to be honest. Jeez, this feels weird to be saying this to you, Harry."

"Not half as weird as listening, son. You don't know what it's like to watch your daughter turn into a woman. I know damned well she's been sexually active for years but I still have that image of a little girl in my mind to cope with. I'm not going to ask about what you two do together, so relax, it's none of my business. Anyway, if it isn't sex then what is it?"

"How can I explain? The feeling is a big part of it, just the feel of the material is wonderful. I love stockings, I love the feel of a skirt touching my legs and wearing a bra is a very good feeling. Then there's that indescribable feeling you get when you take a poke at the silly rules of your society. Like I said, my mother tried her best to raise us to question authority, and a man wearing a bra is something guaranteed to get most men worked up. As far as I'm concerned we live in a society that is simply scared of anything to do with sex.

"We won't teach our children about sex and love. We kill people to stop abortion. We prate on about family values and then abandon mothers with children when their husbands or boyfriends walk out on them or beat them up. We ignore all of recorded history and keep trying to define sexual love as something that happens only between a man and a woman. I suppose Charlene told you how she found out I'm not gay and have no inclination either. Most of us crossdressers are straight, but there enough gay crossdressers around you shouldn't be too surprised to find one."

"I hate to burst you bubble, Don, but Charlene hasn't told me squat about your sexuality."

"She hasn't?" I must have looked incredulous.

"Not a word other than you like to dress up. There she had more than a few words, I can tell you."

"Oh Jesus..."

"He ain't in the boat with us, Don."

"How I wish... She walked in on us in the act, Harry."

I don't know what I expected from Harry, but gales of laughter were not on my list.

"Damn! She didn't! You have any idea how pissed off she gets if someone comes in our bedroom without knocking?"

"She knocked, Harry, she just didn't wait. Since I was, ahem, knocking as well it was embarrassing for all of us."

"Great Caesar's Ghost! I don't know if I should get my baseball bat because you're screwing my daughter or give you a medal for hoisting my wife on her own petard!"

"Does Charlene have a petard?"

"She's too ladylike to fart, son, but she does fart with the best of them. Bet you didn't know that 'petard' derives from the French for fart."

"How the hell do you hoist a fart, Harry"

"Damned if I know. How'd we get to talking about farts when you were explaining why you like to wear dresses?"

"Harry, put two or more adults together and they're going to talk about sex within 5 minutes of starting a conversation. Anyway, I'm one of the lucky ones who can pass as a woman. An awful lot of us are just too big and masculine to carry it off but they dress anyway. I'll admit it gives me a thrill to walk about in public without anyone catching on, but am I really a rebel against society if no one realizes I'm a man dressed as a woman? That weekend quilting was the first time I had tried to pass as a woman in such close quarters. In fact I'm amazed that no one caught on except your wife, and very grateful she didn't start screaming all over the camp."

"She did enough screaming when she got home, son, and I had to listen to it! I was about ready to go over and belt you one for hoodwinking my daughter when Betty called. I doubt Charlene would have let me out of the house in that state, but just the same I suppose that you are very lucky to have Betty to plead your case."

"I am incredibly lucky to have Jenny in my life. That her aunt was my therapist and understands me is something that can only happen in an awfully contrived story. I'd ban any author who tried it from my bookshelves, I'll tell you that!"

"I guess you don't read many romance novels, they do stuff like that all the time. Aw, shit! Now you know one of my secrets."

"It's safe with me, Harry. If you can't trust family, who can you trust?"

With that we resumed our companionable silence until it became obvious the fish were not going to cooperate with us. We rowed in just in time to join the ladies for breakfast at a civilized hour. My fish was suitably praised and stored in the refrigerator until dinner. I was surprised to see Charlene devoid of makeup and wearing a worn and obviously comfortable robe. This was the first time I had seen her in less than perfect condition, I guess that meant I was accepted as family! Jenny's parents announced they were going into town for a few hours, so Jenny and I walked down by the lake. Abandoning fly fishing for my usual style, I proceeded to drown a worm while we talked. Just bait the hooks and throw them in the water, then lean back with my beautiful lady pillowing her head in my arm and watch the bobbers.

So OK, no matter how avid a fisherman you are, after ten or fifteen minutes of laying there in the sun your mind wanders. When there's a warm woman curled up in your arms there's a definite place for your mind to wander to. I could feel her soft hair brushing my ear, smell the musky, feminine scent of her body mixed with the fresh smell of green grass. Her warm cheek rested against me, and I could just sense her warm breath on my chest. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the sensual rise of her breasts beneath her T-shirt, wide and flat as gravity pulled them against her body. My eye kept wandering to the slight swelling of her nipple, a soft rounded bulge in the pink cloth of her shirt. Lovingly I continued to gaze at her body, admiring the graceful curve of her legs as they emerged form her short shorts. A wisp of her cunt hair curled and gleamed in the sun as we lay there with her toes bare and her legs bent.

It didn't take long for us to forget about fishing and turn to more primal forms of entertainment. There have been few moments of pure pleasure in my life, but this was one of them, making love with the soft grass below me and the azure sky above. I was overwhelmed by it all, and almost missed the waving pink flag on the fishing pole beside us. What a time for a fish to bite!

Jenny laughed leaned over and gave a flip to the pole, setting the hook as the line began to unreel quickly. Jenny had learned well from her father. As she put tension on her line she rise up and release without loosing contact with me. With a giggle, she began to play the fish, reeling in and releasing tension as she slid up and down, keeping me hard even while I watched her work. With every action she played me as expertly as she played the fish. With a last effort she drew in the line and a huge bass hung from the pole. About that time the fish became supremely irrelevant as nature took it's course. Still holding her prize triumphantly she rocked gently until I once again became aware of the wold.

We stayed like that for a long time, as neither one of us wanted to move and break the glorious high we were on. Eventually we heard the roar of an engine as her parents returned and at last she shook her head and rose up, breaking the dream.

It felt kind of odd to be scrambling to put ON my clothes when someone came calling, not taking them off. I guess there is one advantage to being in men's clothes — shorts and T-shirt are easier to cope with than bra, girdle and stockings when you're in a hurry. We were decently dressed by the time the van doors slammed and proudly showed off our addition to the supper table.

After lunch we decided a stroll in the woods was in order. We had found that rarest of fall days, when the color is at its peak and the sun has consented to shine through a cloudless sky to bring out their full beauty. I soon found a stout branch and, with a few swipes of my knife became a serviceable hiking stick. I soon whittled up three more by popular demand and the four of us ambled through the woods with great conviviality. About the only thing that could have made it better would have been the swish of a skirt around my legs as I hiked, but this weekend was the exclusive province of Don, not Darlene.

We wound our way up a hill until we came to a spectacular overlook. Away in the distance we watched a farmer cutting his corn, the tractor making slow circles about the field, the stalks falling methodically to be ground up and sprayed into the waiting bin of the tractor. We found comfortable seats on the boulders scattered about and paused to take in the view.

"You know, darlings," Charlene said "Its been a terribly long time since I just took the day off and did nothing."

"Amen to that!" replied Jenny's dad. "I was beginning to think you had removed the word 'NO' form your vocabulary."

"Watch it, Harry, or I'll shove you over the edge. As if you were any better. We both love what we do and you know it, but it is nice to just let go once in a while, isn't it Jenny?"

My love agreed readily.

"It's been a long time since the family was together here at the cabin, hasn't it Jenny? Sometimes it's hard to remember you and your brother are adults now, especially out here where we spent so much time when you were young." Her expression grew abstracted as the memories came rushing back. "Harry, remember how Jenny was always up at the crack of dawn to go fishing with you? What you two see in fishing I never understood." She sighed and continued. "Honestly, Don, I despaired of raising my daughter as a proper lady. Perhaps it's fitting my son in law enjoys being more feminine than my daughter."

"Watch it, mom, or you'll be the one trying to tread air off this cliff. It used to drive me crazy how you would always be so perfectly turned out when you left the house. I kind of gave up because I just couldn't compete, you know. You made it look so easy but when I tried to do makeup by myself I always looked like a clown no matter how much you tried to teach me. Anyway, I like short hair and pants."

"I know, dear. Really, you dress very well, even if you didn't inherit my tastes. I didn't mean to go over old ground this afternoon, really I didn't. I suppose I'm a little nostalgic about family today. Don, I liked you very much before I realized you were a man and I have to thank you for being so patient with me while I sorted out my feelings. It was inexcusable of me to just barge in on you two that afternoon. I suppose Jenny told you how annoyed I always got when my children came into our bedroom without knocking. I guess I'm not too old to learn from my children."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day!" my future father-in-law opined. "We have done a lot of thinking about family in the last couple of weeks, you know. I suppose that's natural when your baby announces she's getting married, but I have to admit finding out my daughter's girlfriend was about to become her husband was something I had never imagined. I'll be honest with you Don, my first thought was you were some damned pervert."

I was hardly surprised, it's a common reaction. Before I could protest, Harry continued.

"I know, I know. Our family shrink wouldn't let me dwell on that nonsense too long, but it took a while to let myself get to that point. I have to admit you are better than some of the biker boyfriends Jenny brought home in her rebellious phase."

"Daddy!"

"Hush, daughter, you deliberately tried to get us upset and you know it." Her mother replied. "You can thank your Aunt Betty we didn't pack you off to a nunnery or something stupid like that. I still remember very clearly how frustrated you were when we treated your scummy bikers like people. I think we learned something too. Wasn't the tall blond one named James? He was a pretty good kid and a lot more intelligent than he wanted to let on under all that leather."

"Jenny, you didn't tell me I was going to marry a Biker Babe!" I couldn't resist, really I couldn't. "You'd look smashing in white leather and spikes. Let's get matching tattoos for the wedding, OK? We can roar off into the sunset on our hogs!"

"Mother! Just look what you started!" Jenny harrumphed. "Please leave the wedding plans to mother and me, Don. I expect it will take all my negotiating skill to pull this off as it is."

"Daughter, you may be the finest Union organizer on the face of the planet, but this is one negotiation you are bound to lose. I've lived with your mother the lawyer long enough to know she can outlast and outtalk any Union flunky, even you. Don, welcome to the family, I expect I'll be seeing a lot of each other while these two fight over this extravaganza you thought would be a wedding."

"Whoa, hold on a minute. We haven't even set a date yet in case you haven't noticed."

"Immaterial and irrelevant, objection overruled! Jenny, you'll have to speak to Darlene about this, I'm sure she'll be more understanding about proper wedding plans. Harold, just what are we going to tell the boys?

Jenny had two older brothers. She had told me a bit about them but I hadn't met them yet. I suppose I was going to have to meet them soon. Jeff, the older, was a conservative type who probably would have a great deal of trouble with Darlene. Josh, the middle child of the family had more of Jenny's casual outlook on life. Well, I wasn't going to worry about that on this glorious day, and neither was Harry.

"The boys are going to have to do the same thing we did, meet Darlene and get to know her. Anyone want to start a pool on how long Jeff sputters when he figures it out?"

"Don't you dare, daddy," my darling replied. "Jeffy is going to have a hard enough time as it is. It's getting late, I think we had better be getting back."

At least no one objected to that. We hiked back down with that delicious half melancholy, half euphoric feeling the end of a wonderful weekend brings. We ate our fish dinner and cleaned up the cabin, starting back just as the sun was setting. Jenny and I sat in the back seat, the middle was packed with all the paraphernalia from the weekend. Conversation flagged as it the evening grew dim. The road stretched for miles ahead of us and we sat silently in the twilight. Jenny had fallen asleep with her head on my lap, and I was in that mesmerized state you get when waiting for the highway to end.

I felt her stirring as she woke up, and reached down to stroke her head. In response she lifted my T-shirt and kissed my belly. I absent mindedly reached out and stroked her tits and felt a shudder go through her body. To my amazement I felt her hands on my zipper and you should have no doubt about what happened next. It is entirely possible to have completely silent, torrid sex in the back seat of a van without your parents realizing anything is going on.