SEATTLE GAL
Part 6
Jessica Settles In
 
by Susan Jean Charles
 
Jessica begins living with Phil and finds that, as the woman of the house, she’s taken on unexpected responsibilities. She finds a Chinese puzzle. Phil takes their sex life to a new level and asks her to wear a certain costume.

 © 2012, by Susan J. Charles. All rights reserved
Edited by Holly H. Hart

When I first woke up the next morning, I wasn’t sure where I was. Then everything came rushing back. Stretching, I realized I needed to find a bathroom. That wasn’t too hard but as I staggered in, I realized that I was really feeling wrung out. Yesterday had really been stressful! Yet, everything had turned out for the best, at least for a while.

As I sat there doing my business, I noticed there were little triangles of dirt in the corners of the room. Phil’s cleaning service was only giving a lick and a promise to the previously unused rooms in the house. I really didn’t want to expose myself to anything that might be lurking in those corners or anywhere else in the room, so I went looking for cleaning supplies.

After scrubbing down every fixture, tub, and floor in the bathroom, a long soak in the tub was in order. After a brief search, I made a mental note to get some bubble bath beads, but settled into the hot water anyway.

I found the same neglected corners in my bedroom, so I found a dust cloth and vacuum and proceeded to clean there, too. Then I inspected the other rooms and ended up cleaning the entire upstairs.

By then, I was so hungry I could have eaten my pillow. Pulling a robe out of my suitcase, I hurried down to the kitchen, making a mental note to finish unpacking after breakfast.

The kitchen wasn’t too encouraging. Phil had almost nothing in the kitchen but snacks. Fortunately, he did have coffee. I was able to survive on a cup of coffee and some left over cheese and meatballs.

After my “breakfast.” I inspected the entire kitchen and made a shopping list. Phil--no make that we--needed just about everything. He didn’t even have staples like salt and pepper, much less any spices or even staples like bread and eggs. Obviously, Phil ate out all the time. ‘Typical bachelor,’ I thought.

On my way out the door, I realized I only had about $10 in my purse and no other money. I was completely dependent on Phil!

There was nothing to do but call him. He was in a meeting, but his secretary promised to have him get back to me as soon as possible. I decided to pass the time by doing some research on my new role.

I went into Phil’s home office and fired up his desktop computer. It was password protected, but I solved that in about a minute and a half. I spent the next few hours studying how to be the ideal hostess at dinner parties, etiquette, and assorted related subjects.

By 4 p.m., I’d worked my way through a bag of pretzels, a bag of chips, a can of dip and finished the rest of the leftover meatballs. I’d start worrying about my figure if I had many more days of this.

Finally, at 4:30, Phil called and I explained the situation.

“But we can just eat out,” he said.

“No we can’t,” I replied. “You obviously do, but I’m stuck here. I need food to eat, and a bunch of other things for the house.”

Phil paused for a minute. He obviously hadn’t thought through this living together thing much more than I had. “Tell you what,” he said, “I’ll set up a credit card account for you for household expenses, I’ll have the people downstairs get right on it and bring it home tonight.”

“Bring home some dinner, too,” I told him. “We need to talk.”

While waiting for Phil, I gave some thought to our arrangement. Yesterday, Phil’s offer had been a life saver, and it still was. But we needed to talk about how this was going to work. I was totally dependent on him for funds to run the house and for just about everything else in my life. Fortunately, I’d already paid a year in advance for the health club and for the classes I was taking.

But I’d need funds for my prescriptions, my makeup and just about everything else a woman needs around the house. And if we were going to be entertaining, I’d need a lot more things for the kitchen. All of it would have to come from Phil.

It was then I realized that I’d taken on the same role as a lot of other stay-at-home women. In essence, I was functioning as Phil’s wife! I was a long way from Mark.

I drew a breath and completely changed my perspective. Phil might consider this as a business arrangement, but I had to look at it differently. I was going to be a woman supporting her man as he tried to climb the corporate ladder. I really had no other choice for now. And if the job was worth doing, it was worth doing right!

I greeted Phil with a big kiss when he came home with Chinese. I’d already set the table in the TV room. He handed me a newly minted credit card with the name “Jessica Watson” on it.

“It’s easier if I put my last name with your first name. That way, you’ve just been added to my account,” he explained.

As we ate we decided that, in addition to the card for the house things, I needed to be put on his account for the food for entertaining. It needed to be kept separate from the food we consumed at home for tax purposes. Also, I added, I needed money for some things of mine, including a few hostesses dresses.

“It looked like you had plenty of dresses when we moved you in yesterday,” he objected.

“Phil, what do you wear to the formal dinners when you entertain important clients or the higher ups in your bank?” I asked.

“Why a tux, of course,” he replied.

“And as your hostess, I’m going to need the feminine equivalent of a tux. In other words, formal dresses with long skirts,” I replied. “And shoes to match. And I can’t wear the same dress twice with the same people. You don’t want me to disgrace you with all these important people do you? I don’t want to disappoint them or you.”

“Think of it as an investment. The better I am, the better you are going to appear to those who matter.”

He saw the logic of that. He didn’t understand it all, but he agreed. After all, he was out to make a good impression with people who were very important to his career. I could see the wheels whirling in his head. I wasn’t going to be a cheap date, but I could help him--a lot.

Once we had everything settled, I told him I wanted to thank him properly for rescuing me the day before. I told him to give me 10 minutes and then come upstairs. I hurried up and pulled off my clothes. I grabbed a blue lacy baby doll with matching panties and pulled them on. Touching up my makeup took only a minute, then I let my hair down. I squirted a cloud of my perfume, stepped through it, and went to wait on his bed. When Phil walked in, I was kneeling on my hands and knees in such a manner that my boobs were almost hanging out of the bodice of their flimsy prison. Phil didn’t have a chance.

Phil took a long, lustful look. I reared back on my legs and said in my most sultry voice, “What are you waiting for? I said I wanted to thank you.”

It was almost funny to watch him trying to get out of his clothes. When he finally succeeded, I had him lie down on his back on the bed. We began with a long, passionate kiss, both our tongues playing games. Then I began to kiss down his neck and across his hairy chest. As I reached his waist, I swung my left leg over his body so that I was straddling him with my rear end almost in his face. Then I worked my way down to his pubic hair.

I laid kisses on the insides of both his thighs. Finally, I reached down and gently pulled his testicles up and moved my lips over them, rolling them around with my tongue. He was breathing very hard by then and his penis was brushing the side of my face. I gently sucked on his sack and nudged his penis across my cheek with my shoulder.

Finally, I decided to take pity on him and ran my tongue over his tip. Then I proceeded to take him into my mouth and slowly push up and down on his rock hard shaft, gradually taking it deeper and deeper.

Phil was running his hands all over my body as far as he could reach. He rubbed my bottom. There is something incredibly sensuous about feeling a hand rubbing your behind through sheer nylon panties. I really responded to his touch. Then, as I began to suck him in earnest, I felt him move the bottom of my panties aside and his fingers began to stroke my rectum. He began to part my cheeks and probe the hole. It almost tickled, but really felt good.

He gently began moving his fingers in a circular motion spiraling down until his finger was penetrating me. Once inside, he kept the circular motion going, widening my opening. Soon another finger joined the first. It began to hurt when the third one joined the first two. It felt like I was having an enormous bowel movement. It hurt, but at the same time, it felt kind of nice. I spread my legs even further apart and pushed back as I kept moving my tongue along his penis. I was aware of my body on both ends and wanted my man to feel as good as possible as I opened myself to him. It was a mixture of pain and pleasure in my rectum and I couldn’t decide if I liked it or not when ..MOTHER OF GOD!!!

His fingers touched a spot on my prostate that felt nothing like when the doctor would touch me in there during my physicals.

‘Oh my God that felt good.’ Suddenly there was a huge wet spot in my panties where my own member was. Phil moved his fingers in and out of me faster and faster as I felt his penis tense in my mouth and then release spurt after spurt of his semen down my throat.

Finally it was over. After Phil’s penis wilted in my mouth, I took a last lick and leaned forward and pulled myself off his fingers. Then I turned around and gave him a long kiss. I snuggled next to him with his arm around me and just lay there experiencing the feeling of being surrounded and protected by this man.

“Thank you!” I whispered. “For everything.” He gave me a hug and we lay there for a while. Then I started to say something else, but was stopped by a snore. He had fallen asleep. I continued to snuggle, but it wasn’t quite the same with him unconscious. I finally fell asleep too.

I woke the next morning in Phil’s bed feeling that I was an instrument which had been well played. I had been vaguely aware when Phil gotten up to leave for an early morning meeting. I stretched and felt the silky cloth of my baby doll moving over my skin. It felt so good!

Then I felt a dried, sticky mess between my legs and decided it was time to get myself clean.

I realized as I walked back to my room that I still had a glow inside. I’d liked what I had done for Phil last night and what he had done for me. Running a hot bath, I peeled off my panties and put them in the sink to soak.

I realized it was almost past time to let everything air out. Reluctantly, I peeled the tape between my legs back and let things hang out. I found the solvent for my boobs in the box of toiletries I still had to unpack and used it. It felt so empty not having the weight on my chest. I worked on cleaning the rest of the glue off the inside of the form and set it on the counter to dry as I sank into the warm bath.

For a while I just lay there, letting the warm water soak all over my body. Finally I soaped up and grabbed my razor to shave my legs and pits. I was thrilled to feel how soft and smooth my skin was getting.

My pubic triangle was still smooth, so I didn’t attempt to put a razor down there, but I did run the soap over my penis and testicles to remove any tape residue. That brought Mark back in a hurry.

‘What had I been doing?’ Mark was straight, as far as I knew. Yet, I’d given a guy several blowjobs and let him put his fingers inside of me and do some very enjoyable things to me. ‘What was I thinking of? What was the world coming to?’

Then Jessica answered back. Mark was straight, and so was Jessica. What I’d done was the same as most other girls did with a guy they liked. And it was me, a girl, who was doing them with a guy. What could be straighter than that? Phil had done me an enormous favor and I’d thanked him the way many girls do, by using my body to make him feel good for helping me. I wanted him to feel good because I liked him. He made me feel good and protected against a hostile world. And I still felt like a nice girl because of my reasons for doing it.

If anything, Mark should be feeling guilty. Not about my relationship with Phil, but about letting things get screwed up in the first place by not paying attention to his mail in the first place!

But then, Mark had had good reason for doing what he did. The poor man had been devastated by his wife’s betrayal. She had crushed his manhood by taking up with someone else. While his typical male “nose-to-the-grindstone” attention to work had contributed to the situation, it hadn’t all been his fault. Sometimes things just happen. I wanted to give Mark a big hug and hold and comfort him and tell him everything was going to be all right. I forgave him for the situation he placed us in.

I toweled off and looked in the mirror. Even without my chest, and in spite of that stuff hanging between my legs, I couldn’t see Mark.

Then, I peered at my throat. Phil had said I had a small Adam’s Apple, if one knew where to look. I couldn’t see anything, but if Phil had noticed, maybe I ought to get something done about that. I’d ask Sandy about that too.

I finished my examination by plucking a few hairs out of my eyebrows and then rolling my hair. Finally, I reattached my chest and used some fresh tape to get things smooth down below again. Then I dried and styled my hair. It felt great to be back to normal.

After a quick breakfast of Chinese leftovers, I knew it was time to head to the stores to stock up. Phil had given me the new household credit card and left the keys to his SUV because I was going to be hauling a lot of food back. I pulled on my jeans and a scoop-necked, powder blue top, popped my pills and was out the door.

It took quite a while to organize and put away all the food I’d gotten. There was plenty of room in the enormous kitchen, but I needed to have things I’d use often close to the work areas where I’d be using them. Then I realized that I needed some sort of an inventory system so that things could be replenished as they started to run out. I also found I’d forgotten things when I made my first list.

After I finished putting things away, I fired up Phil’s computer and made a spreadsheet of my shopping list and the things I’d forgotten. I printed out those things I still needed for my return trip to the store. Then I checked what I could get from the regular grocery store and what had to come from the gourmet store. That was backwards. My sources should have been on the spreadsheet before I printed out the shopping list. By trial and error I was getting some ideas of how a good shopping list spreadsheet should be organized. But revisions would have to wait until I’d finished completely stocking my kitchen.

‘Wait! My kitchen? It’s Phil’s kitchen. No, it is my kitchen. It is one of my work areas in our house. It isn’t just Phil’s house. We are now sharing it and until my situation gets sorted out, it is our house.’

My mind was on autopilot as the grocery clerk ran my purchases across the checkout scanner. I ran my card through the card reader and she handed me my receipt. Taking a quick look at the totals shown, I started to put it in my purse. Then I looked at it again. There on the receipt was the name and quantity of everything I had purchased, together with the unit and item total pricing. It even included weights on produce. There, as a result of a quick scan of a bar code, was a wealth of information about my purchases. And it gave the computer behind the scanner all sorts of inventory information. In fact, the computer could not only tell what was and was not selling, but as quantities got low, the computer could automatically reorder that stock.

Such a system could help me manage my kitchen. With the large amount of entertaining Phil did, we’d be running out of some things very quickly. Phil had had the same order delivered each week for the football parties. Many things did go quickly, but in the pantry I’d found large quantities of some snacks that people apparently didn’t like. Tracking consumption at the parties and reworking the weekly order could save some money and stop wasting food.

The wheels in my mind started turning. It would take some upfront work, but the time savings down the road would more than return the time I’d need to get a system up and running--and save money.

As I drove home, I continued thinking about a home inventory system. I’d need a bar code scanner, no sense in reinventing the wheel there. A small scale connected to the scanner like the store had would be handy. But it had to be something that would be small enough to fit on the kitchen counter without taking up valuable workspace. I’d take a look on the internet after I’d finished putting my food away.

That afternoon, as I was following directions out of one of the cookbooks, I had another idea. If I could tie my recipes into the system, I could get the same sort of inventory control the grocery had. Once I told the system I was going to use a certain recipe, if a recipe called for a stick of butter, my system could automatically subtract a stick of butter from my inventory, without my having to do a thing.

Further, if I planned a week’s worth of meals on the computer, I could have it generate an automatic shopping list by comparing what we had in stock with what would be needed. It could print out what quantities I’d need to buy for my menus. .

I finished cooking, set the table and hurried upstairs to change. I wanted to look nice for Phil when he got home. When he arrived, I greeted him with a big kiss and asked about his day.

“We’ve got a huge deal coming up,” he said. “I’m going to have to burn some midnight oil studying a bunch of papers and reports to get ready.”

“Well, dinner is waiting, so you can have a drink while I bring it in. Then you can get right on your work right after dinner.”

“Thanks, Jessica,” he said. “That will save a lot of time. By the way, I bought you this.”

Phil handed me a plastic bag. Inside was a rubber bag, tubing and a bottle of douche. “I thought you might like to clean yourself out and smell pretty down there,” he said.

“But I don’t...” I started and then the light bulb came on. Such an apparatus could be used for the front or the back, depending on one’s plumbing. I recalled reading that Marilyn Monroe had given herself an enema daily. Clearly, Phil had something in mind beyond what we had been doing.

“Thanks, Phil,” I said. “I’ll try it tonight.”

After dinner, I cleared the table while Phil retreated to his home office. After everything was washed, I walked in to see how he was doing. Papers were scattered everywhere. Some looked odd. I picked up one stack and looked closer. As I thought, the writing on the page was Chinese.

In keeping with my like of complex puzzles, I’d taken Chinese in high school. I continued it as my language in college, but had never used it. It’s a complicated language with many symbols used instead of letters like we use in English. Each symbol had its own meaning, but the meanings can change or at least be shaded by the symbol’s proximity to its neighboring symbols. I sat in an easy chair beside the desk and started to read. It took a few minutes, but everything started to come back to me.

Phil finally noticed what I was doing. “It’s Chinese,” he said. “But there’s an English translation below the original.”

“What’s it all about?” I asked.

“Well, China is the world’s supplier of rare earths which make just about everything electronic work. They have announced they are cutting back on exports and we’re trying to lock up much of what they will export. If we succeed, we’ll reap huge profits, I’m talking trillions here! But you can’t tell anyone about this,” he cautioned.

“Okay,” I agreed. “Do you mind if I look at this?”

“Why not?” he said. “You might have some fun trying to figure out what is being said. You can use the translation to help you figure out a sentence or two.”

He went back to work, leaving poor pretty little me playing with her China toy. Yes, I meant that sarcastically.

I did pull out the English translation and begin to compare it with what I was reading in Chinese. It was pretty technical, but I didn’t have trouble with it. Then, I spotted a difference between what I read in Chinese and what was in the translation. I reread the Chinese and concluded I was right and the translation was wrong. A little further down, I found another discrepancy. Then another.

“Phil, who did the translation?” I asked.

“They had one of their people do it,” he said. “It was easier than us having to find someone.”

“But, if you signed a contract with them, which version counts?”

“Well, they’re both the same,” he answered. “We’d sign a version in both Chinese and English. I suppose the original Chinese contract would be the official one, but it’s no problem.”

“Phil, there could be a problem,” I said. “I don’t know that that is, but I read and speak Chinese. What you’ve been given in English isn’t always the same as what the original says. There are differences. I don’t know yet if they matter, but they might.”

Phil looked first surprised, then confused, then anxious. “Keep reading. Let me know what you’ve found,” he commanded.

I grabbed a pencil and pad and started making notes. The document was a list of which rare earth compounds would be delivered in which time periods and the prices Phil’s company would pay for each. Not in all, but in several of the highest priced compounds, the quantity promised was higher in the English version than it was in the Chinese original. The prices, I noticed, were the same. In effect, the Chinese version was promising less quantity for the price paid.

I showed Phil what I’d found. “You need to get this double-checked by someone who is a certified translator,” I said. “I only have a college-level knowledge. But what I found worries me. There seems to be a pattern here, and I’m really good with patterns.”

“If you are right, I do need to get this double-checked,” Phil said. “I can’t do anything else until I know the numbers I’m working with are accurate.” He gathered up the papers and returned them to his briefcase.

“Thank you so much! You are a woman of many talents,” he said. “Let’s go upstairs.”

I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. I was hoping for a repeat of the previous night, but by the time I’d undressed, removed my makeup, and found a sexy nightgown, I found Phil fast asleep. I lay down beside him and snuggled up, but his only response was to shift a little and snore a little louder. I thought about relieving myself and reached a finger to press down in the taped area between my legs, but before I could get anything going, I drifted off as well.

Phil was already gone when I awoke the next morning. I was disappointed that I hadn’t been able to cook him breakfast and resolved to do better about getting up. But I had my first real breakfast in a couple of days. Phil left a note telling me he’d be looking into the business I’d found last night. He also reminded me that the cleaning people were coming to get ready for the football party on Sunday. Since he had a standing order for food and drink to be delivered, I didn’t have to add anything unless I wanted to.

The cleaning crew consisted of an older lady and two girls. As the girls started in upstairs, I took a minute to introduce myself to the lady and mentioned that the girls seemed to be cutting a few corners. I told her about the dirt in the corners and she said she’d take care of it. I went upstairs and took a quick glance into the bathrooms. The corners there were still dirty. After a while, the lady came up and went into my bathroom. When I looked again, the corners were clean.

The delivery people brought the drinks and snacks for the party. I’d already made sure to leave room for all of it when I was organizing the kitchen, but I told them to put some of the chips and stuff in a different location that I thought would be more efficient.

I’d just finished cooking dinner when Phil called to tell me that there were lots of high-powered meetings going on and they were going to cater dinner down there. “You really stirred up a hornet’s nest,” he said. “But we’re glad you did.”

He told me he’d be working the next day, so it was up to me to run the party. By now, that was routine, so it wouldn’t be a problem.

The next afternoon I was finishing getting everything out for the football party when one of the early guests came up to me. “The toilet paper is low in the hall bathroom,” she said.

“Oh, those cleaning people must have forgotten to change it,” I said, as I put the cheese tray down.

“Well, at least you got them to clean the corners,” she replied. “It’s nice to have a woman in charge here now.”

As I changed the paper roll, I reflected that now that I was here, everyone expected me to be in charge of the house. The guys might not notice things, but the women did and I was going to be judged in a way a guy wouldn’t be. It was something else I now had to keep track of.

The party was fun and Phil arrived at about halftime. We watched the big TV and screamed and hollered, and generally had a good time. Of course it helped that the Seahawks won! Karen was there, and we got to catch up a bit. She told me Fred was keeping her posted on developments, but that he didn’t have much hope for a speedy resolution. I started to tell her about my kitchen project, but she stopped me.

“The less I know about what you are doing, the less anyone can claim that the company has any interest in it. It’s probably a stretch, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

Naturally, I was disappointed. I’d used Karen as a sounding board on just about everything I did. I felt like a piece of me had been cut off.

As we said goodbye, Karen stopped and looked at me. “You’re looking really good Jessica,” she said. “Being a kept woman really agrees with you.”

“I’m having a ball taking care of Phil,” I replied. “It’s really given me a lot of purpose in my life right now.”

“Have fun, girl,” she said. “I hope everything works out for you. I miss you.”

“Me too,” I said. “Let’s hope everything is resolved soon.”

After everyone was gone and I’d finished cleaning up, Phil and I snuggled on the big sofa in front of the TV. He told me he couldn’t say anything yet, but my discovery might have had a big effect.

Then he pulled me close and gave me a big kiss. “Everything was perfect today. You got it all put together and everyone had fun. Several of the girls told me it was the best party yet. Thank you.”

We kissed for a while. I was feeling warm and protected in his strong arms. Finally we broke, and he looked at me. “Did you use the package I got you yesterday?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, shyly.

“Then, let’s go upstairs,” he said. “I want to thank you properly.”

When we went upstairs I paused only long enough to put on another of my sexy nightgowns. At this rate, I was going to have to go shopping again for night clothing!

Phil was standing without a stitch on when I walked into his bedroom. Something else of his was also standing. I marveled again at the size of his package. I wondered how I’d been able to fit it into my mouth.

Phil kissed me passionately and then picked me up and laid me on the bed. He reached down and pulled my negligee up and gently pulled my panties down and off. I looked away. I was shy about anyone seeing me down there. I’d switched to flesh-colored tape a while ago, but I still didn’t look completely like a girl.

Then Phil lifted my legs and I felt his hand gently moving across my behind. He also softly rubbed the insides of my thighs and I felt a little thrill in my tummy. Then, a cold, slippery finger probed at my opening and slid inside. I gasped as Phil circled his finger around inside me and then withdrew.

I turned to see him applying more KY Jelly to his finger and then it was inside me again. He gently rolled his finger, both applying the jelly and enlarging my opening. Soon he had two fingers in and then three. I felt as if I was having a huge bowl movement, but it didn’t feel that bad.

Then he withdrew his fingers and put more jelly on his penis. I tensed as I realized what was to come.

“Relax,” he whispered. “You’re going to love this.”

With that, I felt his tip probing my opening. Slowly he pushed himself inside me. He’d push a little and then stop, letting me get used to feeling him inside me. Then he’d push a little more.

I don’t know exactly how to describe what it felt like. There was some stretching and pain around the entrance to my rectum, but beyond that, I had a feeling of increasing fullness in the bottom part of my anatomy. Finally, I got tired of waiting anymore. I wanted him fully inside of me so I pushed myself against the rest of his shaft.

We both gasped. “Oh Phil,” I moaned. “Please do me. Make me a woman!”

“Jessica …” was all he could say. Then he started moving in and out of me.

’This is what it feels like to be a woman,’ I thought. ’I’ve got my man inside of me and I want to make him love it!’

As he moved in and out, I tightened my kegel muscles around him and began to move with him, trying to get as much of him as possible in me. Strangely, he missed my spot. I’m not sure if it was the angle or what, but he didn’t hit my prostate. But I felt another feeling building between my legs. My muscles were pulling him into me and squeezing him and with every pull, I felt better and better. The feeling was spreading up and throughout my body, extending down my arms until I felt like it was going to explode out my fingertips. Then my whole body spasmed and I broke out in a sweat all over. It felt so good! My entire body felt so good. I felt every nerve. Ripples moved up and down my skin. Then I spasmed again and again, raising myself off the bed to meet Phil’s body.

Finally, I felt him twitch and shoot into me. I was vaguely glad he’d had his orgasm, but I was more interested in mine. It felt nothing like I’d felt in the past. I think I got wet down below, but my attention wasn’t just on my genitals, it was on the feelings going throughout my body. And as Phil wilted, my muscles kept twitching, trying to pull him back in.

Finally, he dropped out and collapsed beside me. I had a feeling of emptiness that I wanted to still be filled, but at the same time a feeling of vast, warm contentment spread throughout my body. I kissed Phil and hung on for dear life. It was so wonderful!

I had to share my experience with Karen, so I called her the next day after Phil had gone to work.

“My God, Jessica,” she squealed, “what you are describing to me sounds a lot like a female orgasm. Did you feel anything in your male parts?”

“I’m not sure,” I told her. “If so it wasn’t much, but overall it was great. My whole body was involved and felt wonderful.”

“Oh, Jessica, I’ve always felt you were really a woman, and now you’ve proved it to me,” Karen said. “I really wish we could celebrate this together.”

“Let’s do lunch after our health club session,” I told her. “It was too great not to celebrate.”

“Just so we’re careful,” she said.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “No one is going to see Mark in me right now.”

I had my yoga class just before I did my workout. My dance class alternated with yoga, and on dance days, I had my cooking class afterward since I had to be in the neighborhood anyway. I’d also started some online classes, but they could be done anytime.

Karen gave me a big hug on our way into our workouts. “My gosh, you’re looking good!” she said. “You’re so soft and smooth.”

“I’m doing my best,” I laughingly replied. “I feel good, too.”

We had lunch in a little out-of-the-way place near the health club. Karen told me she was keeping the company running mostly on royalties and fees from the users of our large mainframe software. Nothing much had changed except that she had to send a monthly report to Cindy’s attorney now. She sent the same report to Fred.

“I’ve had to hire a couple of freelancers to handle tweaking and maintenance issues on the software we’ve got out there.” she said. “They work fine for fixing or building on what you’ve already created. We can go for some time on what we’re doing now, but no one can approach your ability to create software, so eventually we’re going to need new product.”

“And that can’t happen until we get this mess straightened out,” I said. “Are you doing okay, personally?”

“Oh sure,” she laughed. “You are very generous with your pay to me.”

“But you told my your credit cards were maxed out,” I said.

“Well, I’m getting my balances down now that I’m not going out partying with my girlfriend every weekend,” she said.

“I’m not going out as much either. My partying is mostly at Phil’s, and I’m stuck doing the work. That reminds me, I need to know more about food bar codes. Could you ask around and see who I need to talk to?”

“Sure,” she said. “As long as I do it on my lunch hour I’m probably okay.”

That night, when Phil got home, he had another package for me. “I was thinking it would be fun for you to wear this at this weekend’s party,” he said, handing it to me.

Inside was a Seattle Seahawk cheerleader’s costume. I looked at it and looked at him. Was he out of his mind? I didn’t have the figure for this. If you don’t know what the costume looks like, you can see it for yourself on: http://www.seahawks.com/cheerleaders/

“I didn’t get the boots,” he said. “I figured you’d need to try them on anyway to be sure they fit right.”

“I can find out from Terri tomorrow,” I said. “I’ll ask her after my dance class.” Then I realized I’d just agreed to wear that outrageous thing. I wasn’t sure about this at all. I really didn’t have the figure for it. Still, I really owed Phil big-time for all he’d done for me. I guessed I could try it.

I went upstairs to try it on. The top wasn’t bad. It was a kind of modified sailor’s shirt with a drawstring below the boobs. It showed a generous amount of cleavage, but was actually much more conservative that some of the other pro teams’ cheerleader outfits. My boobs would work, since they were exactly the same color as my skin. But I’d have to be really careful with my makeup around the edges. But the white shorts were really tight! They left little to the imagination and rode low on the hips. I’d have to get a padded bikini panty to be able to wear them. Even then, in my opinion, my waist left something to be desired.

I went down in the costume to show Phil. As I turned around to show him, I knocked a magazine off the coffee table. I bent over to pick it up and happened to see my reflection in the glass doors of the CD cabinet. Behind me, Phil was staring at my tush with lust in his eyes. I was turning him on!

Turning around, I told him I’d try to make it work. Then I went over to him and asked if it looked okay from the back, batting my eyelashes as I did so.

“Oh yeah!” he grunted.

“Thanks Phil,” I said. I’ll work on the boots tomorrow.”

Then, I had an inspiration. I could use Phil’s mood to my advantage. “By the way,” I said, “to change the subject, I need a laptop, bar code reader and electronic scale for the kitchen. Do you mind if I put them on the house card?”

“Not at all,” he replied, looking at my white shorts. I don’t think he even heard what I’d asked. I was learning how to use the power we women have over men. Phil didn’t have a chance!

The next day after dance class, I asked Terri about the boots.

“You’re going to dress up as a Sea Gal?” she said. “You’ll have so much fun!”

She told me where to get the white boots and then offered to show me some of the routines. The moves weren’t much different from some of the things we’d been working on in class. The biggest differences seemed to involve stopping to pose in provocative positions. I could see right away that those positions were designed to drive the guys in the audience wild with the display of the female body. Terri also told me about the use of two-sided tape to secure my top. With it in place, I could control how much of my cleavage showed and the tape kept the top from tenting out to show more than I wanted to.

“After all, we have families and children in the stadium too,” she said.

Soon we were gyrating in time together.

“Jessica, you’re really good!” Terri said. “You picked up the routines really fast.”

“Well, you’re a good teacher,” I replied.

“Hey, how would you like to come to one of our practices?” she asked. She explained that the group was always training people who could fill in if some in the group couldn’t be at a game. I told her I’d love to come and she told me when and where. I gave her a big hug of thanks.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Next week is an away game. How would you like to come to our football party? We could show off these routines.”

Terri said it sounded like fun. They’d had a long home stand and it would be fun to have a day off to relax. I gave her times and directions and told her I’d be at the practice. When I left, I headed straight to the place where Karen had gotten my padded panties. I figured since Phil wanted me to look good for his party, I could put the expenses of looking like a Sea Gal on the credit card.

I’d brought the shorts along so I could see if they had anything what would work under them. When I explained what I was up to, the woman behind the counter, asked me to go to the changing room and take off my padding, put on the shorts, and come back out for measurements.

“You can see my waist needs work,” I said as I came back out. I’d pulled the draw string really tight to show what was needed.

“From where I’m standing, it’s not as bad as you made out. But for those shorts, I think you need to wear one of our models with the artificial vaginas built in. You don’t want to take any chances with any bulge being visible or anything slipping.”

She brought out their padded bikini vagina panty for me to try on. I was wearing one of my regular bikini panties to wear under whatever I tried on. The one she brought out worked pretty well. It was low cut enough and shaped so that it did fit under the shorts. It really made it seem like my hips did expand and my waist go in, even a little above the panties. Obviously it was an optical illusion due to the way the padding was shaped. I really looked like a girl with it on. She showed me how to arrange myself underneath so that I could actually pee while wearing it. I’d never liked wearing so much latex since it made me feel clammy after a while. But I’d tough it out to look convincing.

“You’ll have no trouble driving all the men at your party up the wall,” the woman said. Then she handed me a regular padded pair to try. These actually made my skirt fit better than it had when I came in. The other padding must have been beat down by all the moving and sitting I’d been doing these past few months. I ended up buying three pairs of the regular padded panties and one of the bikini vagina panties. Now I was ready to face the world as a Sea Gal.