“You danced several dances with him and each one was more…provocative then the one before it. You were grinding your ass against his crotch and then you shoved your crotch at him as though there were a place to put his package in your front. It was truly quite amazing to watch. You really got into character.”

“What do you mean? I ‘got into character’?”

“Well, you were dressed like a woman and were reacting to the men as a woman might…”

---

 
Author's Note: I am eternally grateful to Lauran Travis for the superb ideas in the original tale: “The Red Dress”. It is posted on Crystal’s Story Site under Lauran's name. I have the author’s permission to use the original as I wish. Thank you Lauran. I am also blessed with the sharp EDITING eye of Stanman. Many blessings to you both for your support and encouragement. There is no violence or abuse in this tale.
 
3. After the Storm…
 
He felt something move gently across his fore head and eye brows. He woke somewhat startled to discover it was only his hair. She was sound asleep next to him. Her soft snoring sounded like a cat purring; a very large cat…maybe a tiger. He smiled.

He leaned over and inhaled her aroma as he slowly came to full consciousness. He could smell her essence still on his face, though he didn’t remember their making love. Indeed, he didn’t remember much of the previous evening except that he drank way too much and his head hurt this morning.

He slowly, careful not to disturb her, began to move toward the edge of the bed. He suddenly realized that he was wearing something on his body that he never felt before. As he placed his feet on the floor and sat up, he recognized one of her long satin night shirts on his body. The satin felt wonderfully cool as it slid along his hairless body as he moved.

His head was beating a tattoo and he desperately needed to void himself. Thirsty…he was very thirsty. He arose and began to walk toward their bathroom. He started to bring his hand to his head and noticed his nails; the plum polished nails, and his matching toes.

Something also felt odd around his waist. He lifted the hem of the night shirt to discover a pair of her panties around his waist. ‘How did they get on me?’ he wondered.

There was also something in the back of his panties sort of stuffed between his butt cheeks. He reached in and pulled out balled up tissues. There appeared to be a wee bit of dried blood as well as some sort of dried and stiffening material on the tissue.

“Oh my dear Lord.”

He spoke beneath his breath. He entered the bathroom and closed the door quietly. He held the front of the night shirt in one hand and his crotch in the other as he approached the bowl. Still somewhat in shock at his condition, he instinctively pulled down the panties; lifted the ehm of the night shirt, and he sat down to pee.

He remembered nothing after…hmmm…he did remember the show starting. And he did have at least one, or was it two, more cocktails. The rest was a blur. He wiped himself carefully least he stain any of her clothing. He got up and went to the basin and began to fill a glass with cold water. He drank three glasses of water before his thirst was slaked.

The husband looked at himself in the mirror and muttered: “Oh my dear Lord! I look like a cheap whore on a Sunday morning!”

His make up, or what was left of it, was smeared beyond repair. Smudges of mascara streaked his lower lids and cheeks. His eye shadow was caked near the corners of his eyes. And his lipstick was but a faint smear across his mouth. Topped off with his blood shot eyes and disheveled hair, he looked nearly as poorly as he felt.

The husband doffed his satin night shirt and panties and he stepped into the shower. He washed himself and scrubbed his face as hard, and as thoroughly as he could. He shampooed and conditioned his hair. He felt as though he couldn’t wash himself clean enough. He did have to admit that soaping his now hairless body down was a novel sensual thrill.

He exited the shower and dried himself. He wrapped a towel around himself in the same manner as she had done and stepped to the mirror. He began to comb his hair back as was his usual fashion. Suddenly he stopped. ‘Why not’ he thought as he parted it down the middle and combed it straight down into the wedge style of the prior evening.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror for several moments. Yes, he could see it. She was right, as usual. There was definitely something just a bit feminine about him. Maybe it was his eyes. They certainly seemed to be a bit large with thick lashes. Maybe it was his mouth. His lips were a bit fuller than one would expect and his mouth just a touch wider. She did love kissing him and he loved her doing it.

He needed coffee. Shaking his head as if to clear his mind; he tore himself away from his image, removed and hung up the towel, and walked out of the bathroom. Donning a pair of her panties, the nightshirt, and her soft pink terry cloth slippers, he padded his way silently out of the bedroom and downstairs into their kitchen to prepare coffee.

As the coffee maker began its task, and the delightful aroma of the coffee began to fill the kitchen, his mind once again wandered to the events of the prior evening. He enjoyed what he could remember though many of the things they did frightened him. She had a habit of pushing his limits of sensibilities and it thrilled him; it exhilarated him.

He poured himself a mug of coffee and went to the front door to collect the Sunday newspaper. He opened the door a crack to see if anybody was out and about. He didn’t want to be spotted by a neighbor in his current attire. Seeing nobody on the street, he quickly snatched the bulky paper and shut the door, letting as little of the chilled morning air in as possible.

He went into their salon and settled himself onto the loveseat curling his legs beneath him for warmth. He gathered a knitted comforter around his shoulders and began looking through the paper as he sipped his coffee. The advertisements from the clothing stores caught his eye and he perused the women’s clothing section as he sipped the drink.

He was so completely engrossed looking at the dresses and accessories that he never heard his wife enter the room. “Well, I see you’re up nice and early this morning.”

She startled him and he nearly spilled his coffee. He smiled coyly at her.

“Yes…”

“And where is my coffee. It simply smells divine. Or must I do everything around here.”

He placed his mug on the table and hopped off the loveseat heading for the kitchen.

“Hey! You know how to greet me in the morning. Where’s my kiss?”

He turned and scurried to her. She embraced him with one arm around his waist and the other around his ass. Her lips met his and she kissed his; mashing his lips and licking the roof of his mouth with her tongue as she squeezed him firmly.

“You were quite the slut last night.”

She smiled wickedly at him, she eyes ablaze with the memories of his desires and needs in bed.
He looked at her with a shocked expression on his face.

“What do you mean? What did I do?”

“You were a very, very wicked little girl last night. Don’t you remember?”

Her voice was so husky and seductive as she eyed him hungrily.

“I don’t remember much after the show began.”

“How convenient. I must remind you. But first, fetch me some coffee.”

He soon returned with a mug for her. He put in cream and sugar; the way she likes it. She was sitting with one foot stretched across the loveseat, her arm across the top of it, and her other foot on the floor. She took the mug from his hand and with her other hand she patted the seat between her legs.

“Sit here. It’s where you aptly belong…between my legs.”

She giggled as he gingerly sat down where she indicated. She took another sip of coffee and placed the cup on the table along side of his. Her arm reached around his shoulders and she pulled him into her.

“There…isn’t that much better? I don’t want my sweetie to be cold.”

She could feel the tenseness in his body. He looked down at his mug and then at his nails. He wasn’t able to make eye contact with her.

“Look at me sweet heart. I won’t bite you. I may do other things to you but I certainly won’t leave teeth marks.”

She laughed as he turned to look into her eyes.

“You were so very naughty last evening you know. I must be a saint to put up with your slutty behavior.”

“But I don’t remember doing anything.”

“Oh for Heaven’s sake, stop your whining! It’s not as if anybody forced you. And you were having such a gay time of it.”

He sat a bit away from her with a very shocked, open mouthed expression on his face, “What did I do?”

“I told you to stop whining. You sound like a little girl when you speak in that manner.”

“Please! Tell me.”

“Well…I suppose I best start at the beginning. The show began and, I must say, it was quite lovely. The costumes were wonderfully colorful and the performers were in good form. You started singing softly with them. With each song, at least the ones that you knew, you became louder.”

“Oh dear God! I must have made a fool of myself.”

He put his hands to his face hiding his eyes.

“Others started singing as well. But you were certainly out front with the best of them. Then, one of the ladies came over and sang to you. You, of course, were quite coy and couldn’t look her in the eyes so she sat on your lap. Then she turned your face till your eyes met hers. It was really quite sweet. When she finished her love song, she kissed you…”

“What? You can’t be serious.”

“I certainly am. And she didn’t simply kiss you; you kissed her back. I do believe that tongues were involved?”

“Sweet Jesus!”

“And…after a bit…you got up and danced to one of the performers singing. You were mimicking her movements…well…at least as best you could.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Wait kitten, this gets much better! Then there were the men!”

His wife laughed nearly to hysterics. Tears rolled down her eyes as she recalled what occurred after the show. However, her husband began to show tears running down his face as well as he sobbed softly.

“I’ll never be able to show my face there again.”

“Quite to the contrary, everyone seemed to love how…free you were with your favors.”

She began to laugh again. She brought him close with both arms, hugged him, and kissed him.

“Nobody took offense or made fun of you. They simply enjoyed you enjoying yourself. You must remember that the place is called The Fantasy Club and if you were fantasizing who would say that you were acting inappropriately?”

He looked at her in disbelief.

“Anyway darling, my sweet heart, you were truly letting it all out. You danced with several men. You even kissed a few. Then there was that very large man of Jamaican origin.”

“What? Oh my God! What did I do with him?”

“Well dear, it wasn’t so much ‘with him’ as it was to him.”

Her husband really became upset as all forms of lurid images presented themselves before his closed, tear filled, eyes.

“You danced several dances with him and each one was more…provocative then the one before it. You were grinding your ass against his crotch and then you shoved your crotch at him as though there were a place to put his package in your front. It was truly quite amazing to watch. You really got into character.”

“What do you mean? I ‘got into character’?”

“Well, you were dressed like a woman and were reacting to the men as a woman might…”

She began to giggle again.

“…but I never imagined in my wildest dreams that you would grab his cock!”

She laughed hysterically this time.

“I did what? I don’t believe you!”

“Right through his pants no less! You tried to get your hand around it but couldn’t. You had such a surprised expression on your face. You thought it wasn’t real. I thought he was going to explode on the spot! I nearly I’d wet myself I was laughing so hard!”

The husband hid his face in his hands again. He felt so…humiliated…and disgusted with himself.

“How can you even stand to be with me?”

His voice was so subdued and wavering. He continued to sniffle as his tears silently flowed.

“Oh baby doll…don’t feel that way. I could barely get my hand around it when I tried.”

He looked at her in surprise.

“You did? How could you?”

“And why not? You tried first. Anyway, he was quite cute and he did have an ass like steel. Good for the thrust you know. Well…maybe you don’t at the moment. But trust me. He was truly well equipped.”

Her husband was shattered by her revelations. He could not image comporting himself in such a manner, drunk or not. But she didn’t seem even the slightest bit upset with him, or his antics.

“Then I finally was able to drag, pardon the pun, you away from your admirers and have another dance with you. You were so turned on and…well…hot! You went into your little slut mode and found all manners of suggestive motions to try and turn me on. Your only problem was that I was already turned on.”

She laughed and hugged him to her breasts. She kissed the top of his head.

“You were so…exciting for me to watch. I really do love you. You know this.”

He nodded his head.

“You kept rubbing yourself against me; kissing me and licking my ear. You were deliciously impossible. At that point we had to leave.”

‘Thank God” he thought.

“You kept asking…no…begging me to fuck you.”

She laughed as he sat straight up in shock; not believing what he was hearing.

“Yes, you certainly did. As if I had the equipment…on hand! So we had to leave; as if I could ever refuse a request like that from you. God I love you!”

“I don’t remember a thing!”

He was so forlorn that all of these very exciting, and completely unusual, events took place while he was in an alcohol induced stupor of some sort.

“I must say that I have never seen you like you were last night. Would you like to hear the rest? You know you really should.”

He nuzzled her breasts and put his arms around her. Her aroma was so…feminine, so exciting. And her warmth comforted him in this moment of unsettling disclosures.

“No. Please. I’d rather not. I’m not ready for all of this.”

“Listen darling, you did enjoy wearing my dress, didn’t you.”

It was more of a statement than a question and he had to nod his head.

“And you certainly enjoyed going out and playing the part, didn’t you.”

Again he felt compelled to nod his head.

“And I still have so many other dresses for you to try on and play in, don’t I.”

She got no argument on that. In fact, he did want to try on several others.

“You will over come this childish embarrassment sweet heart. I really enjoyed playing with you last evening and I felt that we were closer than we have been in quite some time. I really became quite excited playing with you and I would love to do this again. Wouldn’t you like playing with me again?”

He nodded his head.

“I want to hear you say it baby.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what? Don’t make me play these games with you. Tell me exactly what you want.”

He looked into her eyes and saw that she really was serious about him declaring his desires to her. She smiled at him with affection. She knew he needed to come out of his shell on this.

“I would love to try on some of your other dresses and I would very much love to play with you.”

“See...”

The wife cast her eyes toward the coffee table top and noticed the advertisements that the husband was reading.

“…that wasn’t so hard, was it? And what have we here?”

She picked up the ad and looked at the dresses being featured.

“Window shopping are we? Or is this for future reference?”

He didn’t know what to say. He blushed and looked at his nails. She could see where this particular action, his looking at his nails, was becoming a habit when he was at a loss for words, or embarrassed. She giggled as she turned the page.

“You know? You might have the right idea. Perhaps we should consider getting you your own wardrobe. I mean darling, how long can you continue to wear my clothing? My delicates barely fit you and those old gowns and party dresses won’t stand the strain. Granted you will need to lose some weight, but until then perhaps we should make a few purchases. What do you think?”

She continued to look at the paper for a moment or two and then she looked directly at her husband. His eyes were still cast down toward his nails but his brow was furrowed. He was considering the question. She went back to view the ads. After a short time he spoke.

“Yes, perhaps we might?”

He looked at her with a questioning expression on his face. She smiled and turned from the ads to look into his eyes. ‘Yes’ she thought, ‘he is pleading.’

“Right. Well then…perhaps we will do that when the shops open later. But we need to make a list and we need to think of how we might dress you…for play…and for work.”

“For work? I can’t wear a dress to work!”

“Of course not silly girl. But you can wear lovely undergarments, can’t you? I know that you loved the way those things felt on you last evening, didn’t you.”

Again, she spoke as if she were making a statement and not asking a question. He looked at her and a smile appeared on his face. There was no need to answer a question not asked.

“And, while we are on about that, it wouldn’t kill you to wear something other than your flannel plaid shirts, blue jeans and whatever sports jacket you chance to lay your hand upon. You know less about men’s fashion than you might already know about women’s clothing styles.”

“Well, I suppose I could stand to get a few new things?”

“You might want to consider some things from my catalogues. Although they’re for women, the styling is similar to that of men’s clothing; the suits and trousers, blouses…you know…the kind of thing women tend to wear at work these days.”

She reached toward him and pulled him onto her breasts again. She then reached down into his partially unbuttoned night shirt and rubbed his chest and belly.

“I can’t begin to tell you how much lovelier you feel without that nasty hair.”

She continued to caress his body and then suddenly grabbed hold of his breast.

“And we really must do something about these. I mean you can’t go on forever without some…frontage…”

‘Oh dear Lord!’ He thought. ‘She’s speaking about forever?’

“…and balled up stockings simply won’t do.”

Now she began to gently pull and caress his nipple. He moaned and fell deeper into her lush breasts as his hands reached around to hug her waist.

“And we absolutely have to do something about your…little thing.”

“My little thing?”

“Indeed…look!”

He looked down following her eyes and noticed that his erection was distending his panties.

“We can’t have you showing yourself whilst wearing something clingy, or short, simple because you cannot control yourself, now can we.”

She reached down with her other hand and gently held his scrotum in her hand almost as if she were judging its weight and size. He moaned again softly into her breast. She rested her chin on top of his head and kissed him lightly.

“Whilst you were off enjoying yourself with the ‘boys’…”

She could feel him shudder at that thought.

“…I engaged Goldie…”

“Who?”

“…you know…the blond server with the huge boobs. I must tell you that they do have such original theatrical names. The blond is Goldie; the redhead, Ruby and so on. Anyway, I invited her to join me at our table and had a most enlightening conversation with her.”

Though his eyes were looking up at her, his mind was in a frenzy because she never ceased touching him. She continued to play with his nipples as well as grasp his erect penis in her hand and simply squeeze and release it…repeatedly. As she spoke, his eyes would flinch, or roll up in ecstasy, and he would moan softly.

“She’s made several recommendations for us to investigate. Are you paying any attention to me? I could stop this if you’d like.”

She softly ran her thumb around the head of his penis, massaging in some of the clear liquid that seeped from its tip.

“No! No dear…I am listening…recommendations…”

She smiled lovingly down at him. She knew she was teasing him unmercifully but she couldn’t help noticing how very much he loved every second of it.

“She recommended a shop where we might purchase prosthetic breasts for you. You know…a little something to properly fill out your bra until…well…let me continue. Goldie, her name is really Ellen, though she did start off life as Allan…anyway, Goldie also gave me the name of her physician. Did you know that she still has her ‘equipment’ and it is quite alive and well?”

“What!!!”

“Goldie…who is really Ellen…who once was Allan…possesses the makings of a quite stout, and very functional, stiffy.”

“What!!!”

She laughed at his naivety. She always thought of it as very charming. His child-like view of the world, and the people in it, is what drew her to him originally. She thought; ‘Well…if I keep him, I will have my child without the physical insults to the female body that accompany pregnancy and birth’. She smiled down at him and, with a deep breath, explained to her child the ways of the world…or at least The Fantasy Club.

“You understand that many of the women we saw last evening are…well…different. Right?”

“Yes. They were not really women…”

“No darling. You must let me finish. Either agree or disagree, okay?”

“Yes…they are different.”

“Good. Some are men who impersonate women. Some are men in ‘transition to become women. Some have become women with internal plumbing. Some are men who simply love to wear women’s clothing. And some were born…women. Okay?”

She could see a certain skepticism, and confusion, creep into his expression.

“Now, some of the women, such as Goldie, have transitioned into womanhood as far as they cared to go. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“So Goldie, who is really Ellen, who was once Allan, took female hormones, had a bit of surgery…implants and that kind of thing…and decided that she really was quite fond of her penis. So she kept it…in working order no less.”

He suddenly sat up, knocking her hand from his breast. His brow was furrowed and he stared at her intensely.

“And I suppose she showed it to you? In working order no less?”

“You of all people should talk! Groping the handsome, young, and quite virile Jamaican gentleman in front of everyone in the club! And kissing him, quite passionately!”

His shoulders slumped and he leaned back into her, his hands once again covering his reddening face.

“I will never be able to go back there.”

“Nonsense! We’re going back tonight.”

He huddled deeper into her body.

“Ellen discreetly raised what little of her dress there was, and showed me her ‘arrangement’. She wore a device, well…actually a chastity device, which completely impaired her ability to become erect. In this fashion, she was able to wear almost anything without having a ‘problem’ arise.”

“A what?”

“Is there something wrong with your hearing this morning dear? You continue to say ‘what’ and I’m beginning to think that all of this is boring you to death.”

“It’s not that dear. It’s simply…so much? I mean…it seems that you’re going through a lot of trouble to achieve something and I’m a bit at a loss to understand what you are trying to accomplish.”

“Well my darling…my wife. Last night, when we got home, we had the most incredible sexual experience I can remember. You were so…hot! I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever seen you so erect. And when you did orgasm, my God, you filled my mouth!”

There was a sadness that came over him as he listened to her excitement over an event he couldn’t really remember.

“With all you had to drink, I was surprised that you could even remain awake, let alone become erect. And your tongue was so intensely thrilling.”

“I wish I could have been there for it.”

Her smile, and her explanation, didn’t really put him at ease.

“But what was really amazing was that soulful kiss I gave you after you came. I fed it all back to you and you swallowed as if it were water to a woman dying of thirst! That was so sexy, so…hot!”

He hid his face in his hands again. He thought he might become sick thinking about swallowing his own ejaculation.

“Why so shy about it. I do it with you all the time. Maybe I don’t feed you the entire emission…but I always give you a taste. Last night you seemed to not only enjoy it; you asked if we could do it again! You were such a wicked whore last night. Anyway, at least it was with me and not some stranger. Who else would you reveal your deepest fantasies to if not me; some prostitute?”

She took his face in her hands and brought hers close to his.

“You really must learn to look at me when we discuss such intimate acts darling. I am your partner in this life and we have always been very honest with one another.”

She kissed his lips, and, after looking once more into his eyes, brought his head back down to her breast.

“Now we have a brunch date with Ellen…”

“Who once was Allan?”

She smiled and nodded. A look of terror crossed his face.

“Oh my God. I couldn’t possibly to that.”

“Look…we have no mutual friends. Indeed, we really have no close friends. We have acquaintances from work who are only good for a drink or two every so often; departmental parties where my people glare at you and yours at me. Our families are on separate coasts and yours detests me and mine as much as mine detest you and yours. Now I meet a woman who was friendly and open enough to speak about her deepest thoughts and dreams to me. The very least we can do is dine with her. Anyway, she’s coming shopping with us.”

“What?”

“If you say that word one more time, I will slap you silly! Do you understand? And anyway, she was kind enough to help you about the club and settle you in, right?”

“Yes, I know you are right. It was only the surprise. I’m sorry I don’t take well to surprises dear.”

“Well, after today, you will surely learn that the surprises I have for you will be nothing less than wonderful. Now, let’s finish up and get dressed. We have to find you something suitable to wear.”

To Be Continued… I will be going home for two weeks to recharge my spirit so the other parts might come when I return.

I am eternally grateful to Lauran Travis for the superb ideas in the original “The Red Dress”. It is posted on Crystal’s Story Site. I have the author’s permission to use the original as I wish. Thank you Lauran. I am also blessed with the sharp EDITING eye of Stanman. Many blessings to you both for your support and encouragement.

---

 
To Be Continued...