Chapter Thirteen

"This feels weird."

"Jack Lemmon, Dustin Hoffman, and Robin Williams were able to handle it. I think you will do fine."

"But I don't understand why I need to go out like this. You can just bring what I need and I can practice at home."

Dana stopped, folded her arms, and looked at her husband. Sloan was wearing a pair of very short, cuffed, tangerine shorts that showed his long legs off to good effect. He also wore a tie-dyed shorty T-shirt that gave glimpses of his waist. His fingers and toes were a glossy orange/cream that matched his shorts. The contrast with his pale lipgloss and the soft highlights in his long, straight blonde hair gave him a very retro 'surfer'girl' look that suited his body's boyish lines.

She had strategically padded his butt, and though the breast forms barely gave him a C-cup, the light sports bra emphasized the realistic nipples. His ears had been pierced since college, so he sported multi-colored glass dangle earrings that caught and reflected the sunlight. A puka shell necklace and matching bracelet added to the effect while a gold ankle chain and strappy sandals with a denim hobo bag completed the ensemble.

"Baby, you of all people should realize the necessity. How can you convince someone who has met you, and has known you as a man that you are a woman if you can't even convince a stranger? You are the one that constantly goes on about 'getting into' a role. I don't understand your reluctance."

Sloan blushed as she turned his words back on him. In truth, he was so excited about being able to dress up that he had been forced to relieve himself in the bathroom just to get the gaffe and panties on. Reluctance was not really the issue, it was more the image of reluctance that concerned him. He had a sudden realization that this was a lie. He was intentionally trying to deceive his wife. They had always been honest with each other. Always.

He almost told her the truth, but a part of him held back. Several times he tried to speak, lips forming around words, but the words just would not come out. His wife, not realizing the true issue, was becoming frustrated at his hesitancy.

"Really Sloan, do you want this part, or are you satisfied with tending bar for the rest of your life? I'm beginning to wonder."

He struggled to keep the pain from showing. How could she think such a thing? Dana was usually very supportive and was rarely pushy. Was it possible that she had another motive?

His mind flashed back to their lovemaking the previous night. Dana had been very excited at her new 'lesbian' lover. Sloan had gotten totally into the fantasy and was ashamed at how much he enjoyed it. Now he was becoming confused about their little game. Could this be a veiled message about his lack of manliness? Was it possible that she did not find him adequate as a man? Was there more to her motivation than his career?

Sloan had always struggled with his lack of classic masculinity. He knew he had a somewhat androgynous appearance. After all, he had heard it repeated enough times while growing up. He also had those feelings that he had been forced to hide since he was a child. He knew he was not gay. In many ways, he almost wished he had been. At least, if he were gay, he would have had a center, a place where he knew he fit in, a self-image that reflected the image that he projected to others.

Instead, he had often struggled with self-identity. The image that he projected was always a role, a part that could be worn as a disguise. Dana had been the first person to embrace him as he was without placing him into a role. She chose him. She accepted him. She loved him. He had allowed her to see into his heart, and apart from that one tiny, dark, hidden nook, he had opened himself to her.

Sloan felt as if there had been a paradigm shift in his world, especially in his marriage. It was like he had been skating along on a frozen lake and suddenly felt the ice crackling under his feet. Wherein did safety lie? Events seemed to be overtaking him, and he didn't know what to do about it.

like most people, he went to his default setting, relying on his training to guide him. He was an actor. He needed to embrace the role, as he had always done. Acting had always been his lifeline, so he clung to it.

"You're right. I guess I just got caught up in the social dogma and lost sight of my goal. I'm in your hands, Obi-Wan"

His remark brought an entire change in her demeanor as Dana stifled a giggle. Her smile lighting up her face. She used an affected Yoda voice, "Help you, I can. Trust me, you must. Yesss"

They both began to laugh and it was as if a cloud had been lifted from their relationship as they held hands and walked along the boardwalk, watching the seagulls soar, the surfers surf, the skaters skate, and the families frolic.

"OK, girlfriend. Just hang with me. We are going to have so much fun."

As they moved along, Dana started pointing out things for Sloan. It began with innocuous comments about what that person was wearing, or how that outfit was all wrong, or what color top would be better with that skirt. Sloan had always had an eye for detail, and he began to realize that Dana was giving him a glimpse of 'girl world'.

He also began to notice a subtle shift in her mannerisms. She spoke with a different cadence, and her physical mannerisms were much more pronounced. She seemed to be much less subdued than she was when they went out as a couple. He was especially appalled at the way she spoke about other women.

Normally, Dana was very nice and polite. She didn't ever gossip, nor did she put people down, at least, not in front of her husband. Now, they were sitting at a sidewalk cafe eating fish tacos and drinking margaritas, and his quiet, shy, and conservative wife was dishing on most of the women that passed by, like one of those bitchy 'plastic' girls in that Lindsay Lohan film. From Sloan's point of view, it was almost as fascinating to watch Dana as it was to watch the people on the streets.

As the afternoon passed, they began to form an outline for their plan for Matt and Danielle Sharp's Carnaval party. Since it would be a costume party, Sloan couldn't just show up in a dress and convince everyone that he was a woman. There were sure to be a lot of men in drag playing it campy, slutty, straight, or any variety of same. To make it work, they had to be subtle, as there was only one shot at the brass ring.

They settled on the idea of Sloan going as a woman wearing a costume. The main problem would be deciding what costume for 'her' to wear. It had to be a good costume that any natural born woman would wear to a costume party. It also had to be just a little 'over-the-top'. After all, this was Carnaval. They eventually agreed that a Vegas showgirl costume would fit the bill. The gaudiness of Vegas would be in perfect harmony with the party theme. It would also utilize one of Sloan's best features. His legs were to die for.

They were both feeling a little mellow, Sloan giggling like a schoolgirl at his wife's impromptu dialogue as she supplied the voices for another couple who seemed to be having an animated discussion. Dana paused, watching how Sloan casually held his fingers in front of his lips in a very feminine gesture. It was becoming difficult for her to reconcile the Sloan across from her with the man she had been with for so many years.

Her eye was suddenly drawn to a pair of men across the room. They were both tall and tanned, typical California hunks. They were also watching her and Sloan the way a lion watches a gazelle. As he caught her eye, the one on the right smiled and raised his glass, slightly in salute, watching for her reaction. She was held by his strong gaze for several seconds as she felt an uncharacteristic heat rising within her. She held her own glass and almost returned his smile when she realized what she was doing.

Sloan, seeing her gaze, shifted in his seat and began to turn as Dana spoke up.

"Oh my God, baby. Look at the time."

She caught the eye of their server and signaled for the check. As the young lady hurried over, Sloan began to reach for his wallet before realizing how he was dressed. As he began to fumble for his purse, she produced a credit card and smiled at him.

"I have it, sweetie."

For a moment, Sloan was taken aback, as this was what he always said when they went out to eat. As they gathered their things and started for the door, Dana was unable to stop herself from looking back. The man's eyes locked on hers as his companion seemed to be focused like a laser beam on Sloan's ass. Her heart fluttered as the man winked at her, smiling broadly. As soon as they reached the street, Dana hustled them back toward home, a warm dampness soaking her panties.

That night, as her feminized husband fucked her, she begged him to pound his cock into her. She was ashamed as she called out to him to fuck her harder, like a slut. All the while, behind her tightly-closed eyes, she saw a man who bore absolutely no resemblance to Sloan Taylor.