Author's Note: As you can tell by the awkward prose this is one of my very first stories. It is also semi-autobiographical as at the time I was married and very much 'in the closet.

(T minus three weeks)

Mike Harris called it ‘The Quickening’. He had borrowed the term from the film ‘The Highlander’ where the quickening refers to the awakening of special powers that lay dormant in certain people until they are triggered by a significant event.

Mike applied dramatic licence to the feelings that regularly overwhelmed him and called these feelings ‘The Quickening’. Mike hadn’t felt the quickening for two years; he thought that he had suppressed the feelings for so long now that he would never feel them again. Of course he was proved wrong.

The feelings welled up and overwhelmed him without warning on the evening that Mike’s wife informed him that in three weeks’ time she would be off to the other side of the country for a month to visit her sister.

Mike had been married to his wife for over twenty years. Happily married; he had never been unfaithful to her with another woman. But Mike had kept a deep dark secret for all those years. Mike was a closet transvestite.

During his early life Mike progressed through the usual stages of inquisitiveness, experimentation, clandestine pleasure, fear of discovery, and repeated suppression of the urge to crossdress that most secret transvestite’s experience.

In puberty he had discovered he had a fetish for lingerie and hosiery which quickly progressed from using the sensual articles of clothing as masturbatory aids to the practice of actually wearing them. In adolescence he moved on to secretly wearing female clothing and footwear and then to wearing makeup and a wig. By the time he was in his mid-twenties he could transform from a handsome young man to a well-proportioned sexy transvestite in under an hour.

Mike did this quite regularly in his modest bachelor flat. He had plenty of girlfriends and a healthy sex life, his girlfriends appreciated that he favoured them with gifts of sensual lingerie which he would often request they wear during lovemaking; but they were totally unaware that Mike wished it was him wearing the seductive attire and playing the role of the woman.

Mike had an extensive collection of pornography, mainly transvestite themed; he was not particularly aroused by transsexuals although he had used the services of a transsexual prostitute once but found the experience not particularly satisfying.

He liked to dress as a woman and look at magazines and videos of transvestites having sex with each other or with male admirers. He hadn’t summoned up the courage to consummate his desires even though he had seen numerous advertisements for clandestine meetings in the magazines and on the notice board of the sex shops he visited.

At various times during this period he had thrown out his collection of female paraphernalia and pornography and vowed to live the life of a straight heterosexual male. Inevitably the urge would descend upon him and he would find himself with a new feminine wardrobe and requisite accessories and back in the same cycle of relief and remorse. This was the uncontrollable urge that he called the quickening.

He had met his wife at the age of twenty seven and married her the next year. They had no children but were happy. He gave up crossdressing and vowed never to succumb to those desires again. The quickening struck him after three years of marriage and he soon had a collection of fetish clothing, shoes, wigs and makeup which he wore whenever his wife was away and he was confident that she would not discover his secret. This usually occurred during her frequent absences undertaking work related travel or when she went to visit her relatives who lived interstate.

He would also take his stash of female paraphernalia with him when he travelled alone. The cycle of throwing out his wardrobe and vowing never to dress again and then succumbing to the quickening and acquiring a new wardrobe went on over the years. But he never strayed from the marriage bed.

Then in his late thirties an amazing thing happened! It was called the internet and before long Mike had become adept at surfing the net for sites that catered to his peccadillos. He acquired an online handle: Michele Nylons, and began posting pictures of himself dressed as Michele. He was soon chatting online with other transvestites, crossdressers and admirers. He weeded out the loonies, usually young men trying to come to terms with their sexuality, and conversed with experienced transvestites and true admirers.

He bought a webcam and had hours of sticky fun having cybersex; but he yearned for the real thing. But even during this period he went through phases of remorse and regret and took extended sabbaticals from his online persona, only to succumb to the quickening and re-emerge online as Michele Nylons, closet transvestite.

Finally, after years of anticipation, guilt and desire, he met up with another transvestite in a hotel room in a nearby city. The sensuality of kissing, caressing and fondling another girl dressed in sexy clothing, sensual lingerie, smelling of exotic perfume was awe-inspiring. The taste of their lipstick as their tongues intertwined, the feel of their bodies clad in satin, nylon and lace rubbing together, the sensation of finally stroking a hard penis encased in satin panties whilst the girl in her arms reciprocated far exceeded any fantasy Michele had dreamed of.

Michele spent the afternoon delighting in the experimentation and awe of her first encounter with another crossdresser. Her name was Tracy and she taught Michele the enchantment of extended foreplay and the total satisfaction and gratification that were possible in the act of fellating a long thick penis. The first time Michele licked and swallowed the offered organ she knew that she had been missing out on an amazing experience.

The two transvestites pleasured each other all afternoon until they were totally sated. Michele didn’t think of herself as homosexual because she was with another crossdresser; she was just sexual! She also didn’t consider what she was doing was adultery. It was not Mike Harris having sex with another woman; it was his alter ego Michele Nylons having transbian sex with a fellow transvestite!

Two men left that hotel room in the early evening totally satisfied; each carried a small suitcase full of their girly requisites and promised to meet again online and arrange another meeting.

The remorse hit Mike halfway home and he pulled his car over to the side of the road as his body shook with regret and self-loathing. He ditched his suitcase in a roadside dumpster and went straight home and cleaned his computer of every trace of Michele Nylons and anything to do with her transvestite persona.

This lasted three months and then the quickening returned with a vengeance and Mike resurrected Michele who was soon arranging clandestine assignations with Tracy. Tracy introduced Michele to a few trusted friends online, other transvestite and crossdressers, and soon Michele was a regular at their secret transvestite meet-ups. Michele liked it when there where multiple partners; transvestite orgies became a regular event on her calendar.

This small group of closet transvestites who met on a regular basis called themselves the Tea Ladies, an aberration of T-Ladies. It was their little joke.

Of course Michele often had feelings of regret and remorse for living her double life but these feeling were overpowered by feelings of lust and anticipation.

Inevitably the day came when Tracy invited Michele to a party where she was advised that there would be male admirers present. Michele agonised over this; she longed to be held by a man who appreciated her womanly charms but she had some reservations. She knew that there were trannies out there that would only go with other trannies but she had also chatted to many trannies online who related the wonderful experiences they had had with male admirers.

She went to the party full of trepidation and anticipation. Michele was new, fresh meat so to speak, and she soon had the attention of a most of the admirers. She allowed a handsome mature man to lead her to a darkened bedroom where he treated her with the utmost respect and reverence. Fully clothed, Michele permitted the naked man to take her in arms and kiss her passionately. The feel of his hardened penis pressing against her body unleashed feelings of femininity and lust. She was soon on her knees attending to his needs.

When he lay her on the bed and hiked up her skirt and pulled her panties aside she felt apprehensive and anxious; unsure of how painful this new experience would be. The man had already performed the practical preliminaries of donning protection and copiously lubricating himself and Michele’s entrance, but she was still a little unsure as to whether she wanted to experience the ultimate transvestite sexual thrill.

“Are you sure you want to try this?” the man whispered into her ear, his throbbing penis nudging her puckered sphincter.

Michele nodded and lifted her legs up around his body and drew him to her.

It hurt! The man took his time and slowly penetrated her virgin anus stopping frequently to allow her to accommodate the invading member. After a few minutes, interceded with muffled cries pleading for him to stop followed by tacit gestures of encouragement, he was buried up to the hilt in Michele’s back passage. It took a while for Michele to get used to feeling of fullness but soon a delightful sensation of pleasure began to radiate from her prostate gland.

In no time at all Michele was bucking away underneath the naked man as he thrust away. They experienced a wonderful mutual orgasm punctuated with passionate kisses and much groping and fondling.

Michele was soon a regular at Tracy’s parties. The man who took Michele’s virginity introduced himself as Steve; he and a few close friends were regular attendees at Tracy’s orgies. Michele was introduced to threesomes; foursomes, spit-roasts, facials, bukkake and all manner of perversions with the other transvestites and admirers. She was a willing participant and eager to learn.

Michele still suffered regular periods of remorse and she would often disappear from the scene for months at a time; but that was the nature of things in the subculture of closet transvestites. All of the participants maintained anonymity and only used their online handles. The trannies all had feminine names of course, and the men used pseudonyms. Occasionally some of them would meet separately for private trysts or threesomes but there were never any emotional attachments.

If a new girl joined their ranks the admirers inevitably paid her more attention initially; especially if she was attractive. But the little group of lechers were very amicable and invitees were screened to make sure that prospective members were suitable.

No one under thirty was allowed to join and although not of all of the trannies were attractive; they all made the effort to be as feminine as possible dressing up completely as women, including wigs, heels, makeup and accessories. Hairy panty-wearers were not invited.

Not all the admirers were handsome either; but they were all clean and respectful of the girls. First-timers and grandiose online cocksmen were denied membership to the Tea Lady club. Occasionally a girl would meet an admirer outside of the group and if she thought he was suitable she would ask the others if he could join in. Conversely; if one of the men found a mature transvestite who met the group’s unwritten code of conduct, she would be invited to participate.

The group met regularly at different venues once a month; they chatted online to find a date and venue that suited the majority.

Michele remained a member of the Tea Ladies club for three years, occasionally taking sabbaticals when her guilt got the better of her, but showing up again months later, her lust rekindled. Some of the other girls did the same thing and sometimes they would simply disappear from the scene altogether. Because of the anonymity, no one knew if the girl had simply stopped dressing or had moved out of town.

And then one day Mike came close to being caught. An admirer named John bought a friend along to a Tea Ladies get together without consulting the other members. It was customary for an admirer to ask permission to bring a friend to a meeting and usually the prospective attendee was checked out online; a picture was usually mandatory.

Mike had arrived at the venue early and had already transformed into Michele when John arrived with his friend. The other transvestites were quite taken with the handsome man in his late forties and didn’t berate John for breaking their rules. Michele however was livid! The prospective member was none other than a work colleague; a close work colleague! Luckily enough Michele looked sufficiently femme that the new member didn’t clock her; but she beat a hasty retreat to the nearest bedroom.

She stayed in the room only letting other transvestites come in but she couldn’t enjoy the party knowing that her anonymity had come so close to being revealed.

Mike made the usual excuses to his wife to enable him to attend his Tea Lady parties. If it was an afternoon meet he was on the golf course not to be disturbed; if it was evening meet he was going down to the pub or the club with the boys and was not to be disturbed. It worked every time and except for the odd occasion when he noticed he hadn’t removed all of the nailpolish from his cuticles he had never once come close to being caught.

His wardrobe and girly accessories were kept in trunk at the back of the attic. He would sneak up there before a meeting of the Tea Ladies and select an ensemble, wig, shoes and makeup and put them in a small suitcase which he then secreted in the trunk of his car.

Driving home from the last meeting of Tea Ladies Mike vowed that Michele would never emerge again. He would suppress the quickening and leave behind the sordid world of closet transvestism. He had come too close to being found out by his work colleague. Admittedly the colleague couldn’t out him without outing himself; but it was a risk that Mike was not prepared to take.

Later that week he threw out all of his girly goodies with the exception of his favourite brunette bob wig with the crimson highlights and the black high-heeled sandals, he just couldn’t throw them in a dumpster; it would be sacrilege!

He had already wiped his computer clean; deleting his favourites, stored web pages, cookies, links and anything else that might link him to his alter ego Michele Nylons.

And so it had been for over two years. Then…………………

“Really Mike; Sharon needs all the support she can get,” his wife explained.

“I knew that arsehole was no good!”

She went on, explaining why it was imperative that she fly cross-country and spend four weeks with her sister, helping her through a messy break-up.

Home alone for a month! The quickening hit Mike like a sledgehammer! His mind raced as he thought of the possibilities. He could take Michele out of hibernation and play with the Tea Ladies to his heart’s content!

The work colleague who had turned up unannounced at the last Tea Ladies party had long since moved on so he didn’t have to worry about being clocked.

No! No! No! He had kept these urges and emotions suppressed for over two years; to let them out now would be folly!

“Are you listening to me Mike!” his wife scalded, sensing that his mind was wandering.

Mike fought the quickening and smothered the craving. He would be a good boy!

(T minus two weeks)

Mike had been unable to concentrate at work; fighting the quickening took all of his energy. He was sitting in his study explaining to himself what folly it would be to give in to his urges. Curiosity got the better of him. Did the Tea Ladies even exist any more? Had they moved on or had the club dissolved?

Mike opened his windows messenger program. The icon was blank and said simply ‘click here to sign in’. Mike typed in Michele Nylons’ email address and password. The icon spun around for a few seconds and then came up with an alert: ‘welcome back Michele Nylons……….do you wish to reactivate your account?’

Mike shut down his computer and left the study and went into the lounge to watch TV with his wife. She droned on about her upcoming trip as he tried to concentrate on the inane soap she was watching.

At 2am the next morning he sat in front of the computer screen and this time he clicked the ‘yes’ button. The little green icon spun around for a minute or two and then took him to his profile page. All of the information about Michele Nylons was stored there except for her picture. Mike had removed all pictures and video from his PC.

But the links to Michele’s favourite sites were still stored on her profile. Mike could find out if the Tea Ladies still met by simply clicking the mouse. He was sweating profusely and his hands were shaking; the quickening was wracking his mind and body. He snapped the power cord out of the socket, violently shutting down his computer, uncaring of any damage this might have caused.

He staggered back to bed where he slept fitfully dreaming that he had transformed into Michele Nylons and was standing in front of his friends, family and work colleagues who were all pointing and laughing at him. He awoke late Saturday morning to find the house was empty; his wife had gone shopping.

He took a cup of coffee into his study and without hesitating he went straight to Michele’s profile and hit the link to the Tea Ladies website.

The Tea Ladies were still very active it seemed; he looked at some of the recent pictures in the photo library and saw a couple of girls he recognised and a few he didn’t; the same with the admirers. He checked the blog and saw there was a meeting scheduled the day after his wife left to visit her sister.

The quickening raged through him and in his mind he made the switch from Mike to Michele. She combed the online photo library and found an old picture of Michele Nylons and downloaded it to a hidden file on her computer and then uploaded it to her profile. In the photo she was wearing a red miniskirt and a white satin blouse showing off a nice pair of legs encased in sheer taupe stockings; her feet were clad in the same black and silver high-heels she had secreted away in the attic and she wore her favourite brunette wig which was also secreted away. In the picture she was smiling seductively through her heavy makeup.

Suddenly an IM message popped up on her screen:

‘Hey Michele are you back in town?’

The message was sent by Steve who was online. Michele panicked and logged off and in her head she reverted back into Mike.

“Shit! What am I doing?” Mike hissed to himself in the empty room.

(T minus 1 week)

The quickening had taken its toll on Mike Harris as he wrestled with the morality and his urges to transform into the transvestite Michele. At times he thought he had won and at other times he found himself lost in a reverie of mental pictures of Michele committing girly transgressions.

He finally gave in and one week before his wife was due to leave he logged back into Tea Party website as Michele Nylons.

‘Couldn’t stay away?’ an IM popped up on Michele’s screen.

It was from Tracy. They IM’d back and forth for half an hour and Michele told Tracy why she had been absent from the scene for so long.

‘It happens to a lot of girls; especially the married ones,’ Tracy IM’d back.

‘Soooooooooo next Saturday?’ Tracy’s IM asked.

‘I’ll be there. Michele’s back!!!’

And so it was; Mike gave into the quickening and made the decision that Michele would be uncaged and allowed to exercise her transvestite peccadillos. Mike had to get cracking; there were things he needed to do to ensure that Michele came back looking as good as she did when she left.

One of the biggest problems facing closet transvestites is hair. It doesn’t matter how good a guy looks dressed as a woman; if he has hairy legs, arms and hands it looks awful. There is nothing worse than lookingat a great pair of legs clad in sheer hosiery and then seeing a mat of hair on those legs as you get closer.

Fortunately for Mike; he had always kept his body shaved. His wife had never really questioned why he did this and in era of the metrosexual male it was not unusual for a man to do so. He did need to defoliate some of his more intimate body parts and one of the first items that went on his shopping list was ‘Veet’ hair removal lotion.

He put together his shopping list and three days before his wife flew out he went to a large mall in a neighbouring town where he was unlikely to run into anyone he knew. Mike had done this before and the old feelings of excitement and trepidation swept over him as he entered the shopping centre.

Mike made his first stop at a large grocery store. He threw some unobtrusive items into his shopping trolley and then trolled the aisles for what he had really come for. He chose Nair hair removal cream, moisturising makeup remover, facial tissues, makeup sponges, nailpolish remover and a couple of pairs of good quality sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose and placed these articles under his the nondescript sundries in the trolley. He then bought a three-pack of cheap pantyhose and a small bag of rice. Finally he tossed in a package of condoms and a tube of lubricant. At the checkout he pretended to be reading a shopping list as a prop as to why he had these items in trolley. He needn’t have bothered; the bored checkout-chick paid him no attention at all as she scanned and bagged the items.

Next he went to a lingerie boutique where he was waited on by a mature saleswoman who was only too pleased to help him choose a selection of lingerie ‘for his wife’s birthday’. She made no comment to the fact that Mike new the exact sizes of the items he wanted; he was simply a thoughtful husband who new his wife’s clothing size.

He took his purchases back to the car and braced himself for the next series of acquisitions. So far it had been easy to explain any of the purchases to an enquiring sales clerk; but the rest would not be so easy to explain if he was asked. It also meant spending a lot of time in the ladies clothing section of a major department store where men were seldom seen alone.

Mike hit the store right after the lunch break when most customers would have returned to work and when the staff would be at a minimum numbers as most would be taking a late lunch as the number of customers thinned.

He fobbed off the attentions of a young sales clerk explaining he was browsing for some nice clothes for his wife and would return later with her to actually purchase the garments. The relived clerk blew a pink bubble of chewing gum and gladly retreated back to the music section where she was discussing the merits of the latest releases from some inane rap band with another bored sales clerk.

Because Mike knew what he wanted and had been to this store in the past it didn’t take him long to make his selections. A nice A-line and a nice pencil skirt and three long-sleeved satin blouses in his size were placed under a couple of T-shirts he had put in the trolley earlier. A lone woman browsing the aisles was amused by his attentiveness to the sizing labels on the garments he selected. When he held a skirt up to his waist to see if it would fit she smiled to herself bemusingly; but made no comment. He made his way over to the accessories section and selected a small clutch purse.

Mike paid for the clothing at a checkout where there were no other customers waiting; the attendant didn’t even look up as she scanned the articles of female apparel being purchased by this mature man; why should she give a toss?

Mike took these purchases back to the car; his heart racing. The most dangerous part of his shopping spree was now over. He went back inside to another large department store and purchased some cheap jewellery; he bought a couple of special clips to attach to his ears; they were designed so that people without pierced ears could wear earrings designed for pierced ears. It was almost impossible to get decent clip-on earrings these days.

He would have preferred to buy his makeup as individual items at different stores but he didn’t have the time to visit lots of shops and buy each item separately and put them in with innocuous purchases. Instead he bought a complete makeup case; ‘for his nieces birthday’ if anybody asked. In another store he purchased his favourite perfume ‘Poison’ and some ladies deodorant.

Two hours after arriving at the mall he had all of the prerequisites he needed; with the shoes and wig he had kept hidden away in the attic he was now ready for Michele’s triumphant return. He smiled to himself, drove home and hid his purchases in the attic before his wife came home from work.

(T minus one day)

The quickening was now raging through his body and he couldn’t wait for his wife to leave so that he could try on his new purchases. That evening he cajoled his wife into wearing full makeup, nylons, panties, a full-slip and high-heels during their farewell love making. His wife was used to him making this request occasionally and didn’t mind because she knew that it would extremely arouse her husband and guarantee her at least two intense orgasms.

What she didn’t know was that in order to build up to those earth-shattering orgasms, her husband imagined that he was the one dressed in the lingerie and makeup that she was wearing, giving head and being rampantly mounted and fucked.

Friday afternoon he dropped her at the airport and kissed her farewell and promised to keep in contact and not wreck the house for the month she would be gone. She kissed him goodbye and pulled him close, stroking his cock though his trousers she whispered in his ear.

“Be a good boy and I’ll take care of this as soon as I return,” she smiled wickedly at her husband and pushed him gently away.

“If only you knew!” Mike whispered to himself and grinned as he watched his wife’s sexy bottom and long pantyhosed legs disappear down the concourse.

(T minus 12 hours)

Mike drove home and parked his car inside the garage. He locked the doors, pulled the blinds and turned off all the lights except for those in his bedroom and ensuite. He climbed up to attic and retrieved his newly acquired purchases and the small suitcase containing his high-heels and wig. He lay them out on the bed. He poured himself a large glass of Shiraz from the bottle he had set on the dressing table and took a sip before beginning the task of transforming into Michele.

The quickening was coursing through his body and in his mind he clicked over and became Michele.

Michele often laughed when she read stories on sites such as Fictionmania about a man who suddenly gets the urge to crossdress who simply slips into his wife’s/sister’s/mother’s/girlfriend’s clothing and shoes, finds a convenient wig and slaps on some makeup and looks magnificently feminine. What a crock of shit!!! It takes an experienced crossdresser a good hour to transform; and that’s with a lot of the prep work done and owning clothing and shoes in the right size!

Michele carefully unwrapped her purchases and placed the wrapping materials in a large black plastic garbage bag to be thrown into a dumpster on the way to her assignation tomorrow. She spread Nair in the crease of her buttocks, the small of her back and in other intimate places on her body that she couldn’t reach with a razor. While the depilatory cream did its job she shaved the rest of her body with her beard trimmer and removed every skerrick of nose hair from her nostrils. She trimmed her pubic hair and her eye brows and then stepped into the shower.

Michele washed her body and rinsed off the depilatory cream and watched with satisfaction as small clumps of hair disappeared down the drain. She shaved her legs, hands and chest with the safety razor causing only a few small nicks. She was not a particularly hairy person anyway and now most of her body was smooth; the remaining parts of her body had a fine stubble from the trimmer but those parts of her body would not be on display.

She dried herself and carefully shaved her face; twice. Happy that she was prepared for a transformation she put her makeup case on the dressing table and commenced her routine. She sprayed her underarms with deodorant and the first tingle of excitement spread through her body.

Michele applied foundation to her face, ensuring that it went right up to her hairline and all the way down her neck to the top of her chest. She smoothed it out and applied more foundation to the patchy areas. She applied a generous covering of face powder on top of the foundation with a large brush and set to work on the more intricate work.

Michele hadn’t used makeup for over two years but she knew that the hardest task was to get her eyeliner right. By doing this tricky part next she could wipe away the foundation and powder off her eyes, reapply it and start again if she fucked it up. She didn’t! She had delineated her eyes perfectly with the black eyeliner. She went to work on her eyeshadow, selecting subtle pink for her outer eyes and pale teal for the lids. She smoothed out and blended the eyeshadow and was quite happy with the result.

She rouged her cheeks and then applied a top coat of finishing powder which set the makeup and gave her face a subtle glow. Then she painstakingly applied lashings of mascara to her eyelashes. She looked at the selection of lipsticks in the makeup case and begrudgingly selected a tube of ruby-red lipstick. Tomorrow she would use the two-coat liquid and gloss long-lasting lipstick; but as her lips would not be coming into contact with another person tonight so there was no need to use the rather difficult to remove long-lasting lipstick.

She carefully applied the lipstick and bit down on a tissue to set it and remove the excess. The tissue was carefully placed in the large plastic garbage bag. She did not want to get into the habit of leaving any evidence of her transformation where it might be found.

She looked in the mirror and was happy with the results; especially considering she hadn’t used makeup for so long.

“Just like riding a bike!” she sniggered to herself.

She took her wig into the ensuite and stood in the shower and took the wig out of the protective bag. She brushed it out with a special wig brush that she had kept with the wig and flushed any errant strands of hair down the drain. Returning to the dressing table she carefully set the wig on her head and adjusted it.

She looked great! She probably wasn’t ‘passable’ in the true sense of the word but she looked both feminine and sexy. Her penis had started to harden a little and was becoming a nuisance so she sat down and sipped at her wine until her erection subsided.

While waiting for this to occur Michele took one of the pair of cheap pantyhose and cut the legs from the gusset. She put the gusset into garbage bag and carefully put equal measures of rice into each of the legs of the hose. When she was satisfied with the size of the bulging rice-filled nylon sacks she folded the nylon over and over and tied several knots in the toes of the pantyhose then she trimmed off the excess.

Michele had just created two perfectly suitable substitutes for breastforms. She had owned several pairs of silicone breastforms before but these would be an appropriate substitute until she could acquire the real thing.

Michele looked at the lingerie she had purchased and made a selection. She would have liked to wear the suspender belt and stockings: she put the lacy belt around her waist and adjusted the garters and then she begrudgingly took it off. She would save it for tomorrow; no one would be requiring access to her lower body tonight so she put the suspender belt aside and opened up a pair of taupe sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose.

Nothing compares to the thrill of pulling expensive hosiery up your freshly shaven legs and Michele experienced the wonderful sensation of the diaphanous garment sliding over her toes, up her calves and thighs and fitting snugly around her waist. She carefully smoothed out the hose and admired the way her legs looked. She pushed her thickening penis under the gusset of the pantyhose and stepped into a pair of pink satin boy-leg panties.

The satin whispered as it slid up her nylon-clad legs and little sparks of delight tingled along her sensitive skin. She pulled the panties snug and after a few minutes adjusting them she pulled on the matching brassiere. She adjusted the bra and carefully stuffed her makeshift breastforms into the cups.

She looked at herself in the mirror and was pleased with what she saw. Ordinarily she would now put on her outer garments but instead she sat down at the dresser and clipped on a pair of silver drop earring, matching necklace and bracelets and fastened an ankle-chain around her left calf. She slid three rings on the fingers of each of her hands and then stepped into her black and silver high-heels and tottered precariously on them until she was able to recollect the ability to walk in stilettos. She sprayed herself liberally with Poison and once again looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror.

Sexy bitch!

She sat down and painstakingly did her nails with ruby-red nailpolish which matched her lippy. She touched up her makeup and adjusted her wig and commenced to take a series of shots with her digital camera.

She started off posing modestly and progressed to more seductive and provocative poses, finishing up with a few stroke shots for good measure. She was highly aroused at this point but she had ditched her stash of porn long ago and had to make do with hand-relief as she watched herself posing in the mirror. She carefully shot her load into a handkerchief so that she wouldn’t stain her new lingerie. She cleaned herself up and poured another glass of wine.

She stepped into a leopard-skin patterned pencil skirt that hugged her buttocks and thighs. A kick-pleat split the back of the skirt and Michele looked over her shoulder and checked out the tantalising view of the back of her thighs in the mirror. Perfect! She pulled on a white satin blouse, buttoned it up and tucked it into the waistband of her skirt. She adjusted the blouse and then closed the zip on the side of her skirt. She checked herself out in the mirror and was well pleased with what she saw. She was a hot, sexy, mature transvestite!

Michele spent a few hours prancing around in her high-heels getting used to walking in them once more. She took numerous pictures of herself; some fashion shots and some downright pornography. Finally she set the camera into movie mode and filmed herself still fully clothed masturbating to completion.

Michele decided she would wear the same outfit tomorrow and carefully removed her clothing and folded it carefully into the little suitcase. She left on her pantyhose and put the black lace suspender belt and several pairs of stockings in the suitcase. She packed up her makeup and other accessories and put them in the suitcase and then carefully removed her nailpolish and makeup ensuring the tissues and wipes went into the garbage bag.

She hid the clothing that she wouldn’t be taking with her tomorrow back in the attic and slid the suitcase under the bed. She left on her pantyhose and slipped into one of her wife’s satin full-slips and went to bed where she dreamed of the girly fun she was going to have tomorrow.

The quickening had won out. Michele Nylons was back!

(T Day)

Mike was restless all day thinking about what he was going to get up to later in the evening. He took himself to a movie to try to take his mind off it but he couldn’t stop thinking about transforming into Michele later in the day. The quickening was coursing through his body. The mature, well-built, female attendant who took his ticket and led him to his seat in the theatre wore a nice close-fitting uniform consisting of skirt and blazer and she showed a considerable amount of sheer nylon-clad leg as she proceeded ahead of him guiding him to his seat. Mike admired the attendant’s legs and ample buttocks but secretly wished it was he dressed in the theatrette uniform. He was hard all through the movie.

Returning home Mike made the necessary preparations required to transform into Michele. He shaved himself twice; his face was smooth and unblemished. He trimmed away any rouge hairs that he found on his body and before taking a long hot shower he evacuated himself, took an enema and inserted lubricant inside his anus.

This vital but unsavoury necessity is part of the preparation seldom discussed on TV websites or in TV fiction but the reality was if you want to enjoy anal sex you have to take steps to ensure that it is not unsavoury.

He stood in the hot shower and lathered his penis and he was tempted to give it a good stroking but he did not give in to the temptation; Michele’s penis would soon be receiving all the attention it needed. He carefully painted his toenails with nailpolish before donning his socks.

Mike took the little suitcase from under his bed and dropped it in the trunk of his car. His hands were shaking with anticipation. As he drove out of his garage and the automatic door closed behind him his brain underwent a familiar transition. Mike was locked away and Michele emerged and took over. The quickening was now almost tangible.

Michele parked her car in the street next to Tracy’s house. It had been years since she had been here but not much had changed. Tracy was in fact a divorcee who owned a small shop in a nearby shopping mall. She was another part-time transvestite who liked both other transvestites and male admirers. Living alone allowed her to use her small house for the odd party or discrete rendezvous.

Michele took her suitcase and pressed the buzzer next to Tracy’s front door. Michele was early but she had arranged with Tracy to arrive prematurely as she wanted to be transformed before the rest of the partygoers arrived.

Tracy was already dressed and wore a tight-fitting business suit, tan seamed stockings and a black bob. She was tottering on her highest of high-heeled pumps and wore lashings of makeup and was surrounded by a miasma of perfume. She ushered Michele inside and closed the door.

“I’m doing my secretary thing today; hoping that I’ll be forced to take some dick-tation,” Tracy winked at Michele who smiled at the double entendre.

Michele playfully pinched Tracy on the bum.

“I might let you take some dick-tation from me later,” she smiled.

“Up the stairs; second bedroom on the right,” Tracy nodded in the direction of the staircase.

“You’re not getting any dick whatsoever until you get dressed,” she teased.

Michele climbed the staircase and fond memories returned. She had been to parties at Tracy’s many times and had even been well and truly shagged a couple of times on this very staircase!

She went into the brightly lit bedroom and put her case on the bed and opened it up. She placed her makeup and wig on the dressing table and lay out her clothes carefully on the bed. She sat at the dresser and went through the same ritual she had done last night. She was so nervous that she had to make two attempts to get her eyeliner right. Once she was made-up, bewigged, and bejewelled, she stepped into the black lace suspender belt and slid a pair of sheer fully-fashioned stockings up her legs fastening the suspender clips to the dark welts at the top of the stockings. She straightened the seams and stepped into her high-heels and then finished dressing.

Her cock was semi erect and she had difficulty pushing it under her groin so that it wouldn’t tent her tight pencil skirt. She slipped out of the boy-leg panties and slid on a pair of red satin full-cut briefs that effectively hid the bulge. The panties did not look as good as the boy-legs but they were still nice and felt downright sexy.

Her panties did show a visible panty-line under her pencil-skirt but she didn’t mind. In the world of transvestite fashion a bit of VPL is actually considered quite provocative; admirers quite like to know that a girl has nice panties under her skirt. Michele refused to wear thongs or g-strings; she found them uncomfortable, impractical, and unsexy.

She sat down and painstakingly painted her fingernails listening to the growing hum coming from downstairs. Other partygoers were arriving. Michele knew that there would be three trannies and about six or seven admirers at the party which was a good mix. She didn’t know the other transvestite but had looked up her profile online. Her name was Teresa and she was a rather large lady in her forties. In her pictures she was quite well proportioned and wore large breastforms and had very nice legs. She tended to wear tight clothes and a little roll of puppy-fat bulged at her waist but she was still quite attractive.

Michele sprayed herself liberally with Poison, picked up a clutch purse into which she had dropped a few requisites such as cigarettes, condoms and lubricant and exited the bedroom and slowly made her way down the stairs.

“Jesus Christ Trace; where have you been hiding her?” a rather large red-faced man asked.

He was holding a large tumbler of scotch and it was obviously not his first drink.

“Everyone; meet Michele,” Tracy smiled as Michele stopped and posed, three steps from the bottom of the staircase.

“Me want!” the red-faced man guffawed and blatantly started at Michele; his eyes roving over every inch of her body.

“Welcome back honey,” a mature handsome man stepped forward and took Michele’s hand and led her into the sitting room.

The man was Steve, a regular at the Tea Ladies parties. Michele felt comfortable with Steve and he soon had her in conversation and had given her glass of wine. They chatted away amicably for a while, never raising the issue of why Michele had been absent from the Tea Ladies for so long. It was one of the unwritten laws of Tea Ladies that anonymity and discretion were paramount.

After a couple of minutes of idle chatter Michele noticed Teresa was kissing one of the other men and stroking his stubby penis which was poking out of his flies. The man was struggling, trying to keep cuddling Teresa whilst shucking out of his clothes. Eventually he broke the kiss and impatiently stripped off his shirt and pants. Teresa went down on her knees and began to fellate the balding man who was now dressed only in socks and briefs.

This was what the party was about after all; sure there would be lots of chatting, drinking and joking but what there would be mostly was sex. A few of the other men began to strip and one of them stood beside the balding man so that Teresa could suck on each of their cocks in succession.

Teresa was wearing a black leather mini, a long-sleeved tiger-print silk blouse, sheer taupe hosiery and black high-heels. She wore a blonde, shoulder-length wig and lots of makeup. As her ruby-red lips sucked on the two cocks poking at her face another man moved behind her and lifted her skirt. She was wearing pink satin panties over pantyhose and the man stroked her arse and then let his fingers slide under her groin and began to massage her cock through the layers of satin and nylon.

Teresa smiled around a mouth full of cock.

“Come on honey’ let’s go somewhere private!”

The red-faced man took Michele by the hand and pulled her towards the stairs. Michele went along grudgingly; she was hoping that Steve would be her first. As she climbed the stairs, the man close behind her began to paw at her buttocks and legs. He ran a finger up the seam of her stocking and stroked the welt and then the bare skin above dark band of nylon. Michele’s cock twitched in her panties.

“God you’ve great legs girl; and a fantastic arse! I’m Ron by the way,” the man said; his face inches from Michele’s buttocks as she mounted the last of the stairs.

Ron half pushed Michele into the bedroom where she had gotten dressed earlier in the evening. Without further ceremony he pushed her down on the bed and fell on top of her. Michele could feel his hard cock poking into her belly as he squirmed on top of her and crushed her lips with his, forcing his tongue into her mouth.

Ron tasted of scotch and cigarettes but he was wearing a pleasant aftershave and a nice deodorant. Michele responded to his kiss by opening her mouth and entwining her tongue with his. She put her arms around him and lifted a leg and slid it along his flank. Michele knew what men liked.

Michele pushed her hand between their bodies and squeezed Ron’s thickening cock through his trousers.

“Christ you’ve got me horny Michele,” he gasped and began to tear off his clothes.

“Strip down to yer knickers girly!” Ron pleaded as he pulled off his shirt.

“I like to keep dressed; it turns me on,” Michele smiled back and lifted the hem of her skirt to show off her stocking tops.

“But you can take what you like,” she smiled wickedly.

“Fuck!” Ron gasped and fell on top of her again.

His tongue resumed its exploration of Michele’s hot wet mouth and his hands began to explore her body. He hiked up her skirt and nestled the tip of his cock between her stocking-clad thighs and began to hump her legs.

Michele could feel the heat of Ron’s cock as he fucked her thighs; it was iron hard and throbbing. She could feel a little wetness as the hard cock leaked pre-seminal fluid. He was gasping and moaning and Michele didn’t think it would be long until he came.

Ron pushed his cock between Michele’s thighs and forced her legs open and began to push his cock into the crease of her buttocks; only the fabric of her panties preventing him from his objective. Michele was moaning now and her cock was hard inside her panties. She had missed this so much! She wanted to be fucked!

“Protection!” Michele hissed.

Ron reluctantly broke their embrace and rummaged around in his pocket and produced a lubricated condom. Michele reached into the clutch she had dropped beside the bed and extracted the tube of lubricant. Ron was fussing with the condom wrapper frustratingly trying to extract the little rubber jonnie and Michele smiled at the sight of the red-faced fat man, naked except for his socks, his stubby hard-on wobbling as he tore at the condom wrapper.

“Give it here,” Michele said and reached out and took the wrapper.

She slid a red-painted fingernail inside the tattered wrapper and sliced it open and extracted the little rolled-up silicone tube.

“Kneel on the bed and I’ll show you a trick,” Michele smiled wickedly at Ron who quickly obliged.

Michele got on her hands and knees on the bed and approached him. She put the condom between her lips with the little reservoir tip inside her mouth and then slowly wrapped her mouth around Ron’s quivering erection. As her mouth slide down his shaft the condom unrolled.

When her lips came to the base of his shaft the condom perfectly encased his hard cock. Ron held Michele by the head and began to fuck her face and Michele reciprocated by slathering his cock. She usually performed fellatio unprotected and the condom tasted a little sour. She placed her hands on his thighs and pushed her face out of his groin.

“I’ve got something better,” she smiled at him.

She took the tube of lubricant and generously smeared Ron’s glans and shaft with clear viscous fluid and then slipped a generous dollop inside her panties around and just inside her anal bud. She got back down on her hands and knees and turned around and raised her generous arse into the air and reached back and pulled up the hem of her skirt.

“Do me like a doggie,” she giggled.

Ron stared at Michele’s stocking-clad legs; the dark welts contrasting with the creamy skin at the tops of her thighs, her ample tight buttocks encased in red satin, the dollop of lubricant glistened through the sheer panty. Ron hiked Michele’s skirt up further and pulled the gusset of her panties to one side and waddled on his knees between her legs until his cock nudged her puckered opening.

Michele closed her eyes and tried to force herself to relax her sphincter. Ron’s cock pushed forward and Michele pushed back until the glans of Ron’s penis penetrated her.

“Stop Ron; just let me get used to it,” Michele pleaded as pain seared from her newly burgled back passage.

She made herself relax and accommodate the invading member. She slowly pushed back and the well-lubricated shank slid inside her until she felt her buttocks nestle against Ron’s groin. Her anus felt full with a dull rawness but as she slowly accommodated Ron’s cock and relaxed an undercurrent of pleasure began to radiate from inside her.

Ron held Michele by the hips and began to fuck her with long slow strokes. Michele was in heaven; this was what she missed: the feel of satin, nylon and lace against her body, the taste of lipstick and makeup, the scent of perfume, and the false femininity of behaving like a total slut.

Just then the door opened and Steve entered the room.

“Is there room for one more?” he grinned.

Michele, on her hands and knees being properly fucked by Ron, was busy enjoying sensations she had missed for the years she had been out of the scene and just nodded.

“Spit roast?” Ron winked at Steve.

Steve dropped his pants and climbed onto the bed approaching Michele from the front. He was already erect and as soon as cock touched Michele’s lips she gobbled it up with relish.

Michele sucked and slavered on Steve’s cock while Ron pounded in and out of her slick passage. It did not take long for either of the trio to build up to climax. Ron cane first; holding onto Michele by the straps of her garters and jackhammering in and out her tight hole; he ground himself against her buttocks as he ejaculated inside her, filling the condom with hot milky seed.

Michele orgasmed almost immediately she felt Ron’s cock pulsating against her prostrate; her semi-erect cock throbbed and filled the front panel of her panties with sticky semen.

Sensing the other two had peaked Steve held Michele’s head in his hands and fucked her face; unloading stream after stream of viscous sperm into her mouth as she sucked slathered and swallowed.

All three eventually spent their loads and began to slowly disentangle from one and other. Ron dropped the used condom into a waste bin and fetched a damp cloth from the bathroom to wipe his genitals clean and then got dressed. Meanwhile Steve let Michele lick his cock clean and he stuffed it back into his pants. He kissed Michele passionately on the lips tasting a scintilla of his own spend on her breath.

“See you downstairs Michele; I haven’t finished with you yet,” he grinned and left the room.

Ron came back and kissed and cuddled Michele for a few minutes explaining that he had to leave the party but would like to meet her again, maybe for a one on one private session. Michele said she would see and they swapped email addresses.

Michele kicked off her come-soaked panties and walked down to the bathroom. She closed the door; cleaned herself up and re-lubricated herself. She went back to the bedroom and stepped back into the boy-leg panties she had discarded earlier and then fixed her makeup. She combed her wig and freshened her perfume and made her way downstairs.

Tracy was taking ‘dick-tation’; sucking on a large cock that belonged to younger man, about thirty, who was taking obvious delight in being fellated by the sophisticated transvestite secretary.

Teresa was bent over a padded pouf; her skirt on the floor and her knickers around her ankles while the man whose stubby penis she had fellated earlier stood behind her and fucked her. His friend stood beside him naked, his cock erect, eager to take the chubby man’s place once he had come.

Michele grabbed a drink and was eventually cajoled by one of the other partygoers to stand in front of Teresa and to let her suck her cock. The boys liked a bit of transbian action.

Michele left the party five hours later fully sated. She had come four times and her cock and anus were a little sore. She had undressed and cleaned herself up, dressed in male attire, and in her mind she transformed back into Mike a few minutes after she left the party.

(T plus one day)

The remorse, regret and self-loathing hit Mike like a ton of bricks. He really did like transforming into the transvestite slut Michele Nylons, but the guilt and fear that overwhelmed him after giving in to the urge was almost unbearable.

Mike Harris pulled over to a roadside dumpster and threw the small suitcase into it. There! Michele Nylons was gone! He would never be tempted again!

At 3am the next day a car drove up to the dumpster in the dark quiet early morning and a man looked around surreptitiously and then dumpster-dove into the bin and retrieved the suitcase.

The quickening was once again raging through Mike Harris.

The End