Surrender - Chapter 1
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Chapter One – The Transvestite, The Burglar and The Policeman
Peter Simpson trained his flashlight on the dresser and for a minute he thought he’d found the jackpot.
The jewellery box was full of glittering emeralds, rubies and diamonds, all set in gold and silver. He took a pair of emerald earrings and put the light to them.
“Fuck!” he hissed.
He took the jewellery box over to the bed and emptied the contents on the duvet and stirred through the necklaces, earrings, rings and bracelets with a gloved finger.
“Fuck! Fuck!” he hissed again.
“Costume,” he sighed, but he scooped up the jewellery and put it in his carryall anyway.
“Maybe they hide the good stuff?” he pondered.
The costume jewellery was still worth something. It was good quality even if the gemstones were synthetic and the gold wasn’t twenty-four carat and the silver wasn’t the finest.
Peter opened the dresser drawers.
“Bingo!” Peter grinned.
In the top drawer hidden under the cotton underpants, vests and socks he found a gold man’s wristwatch, a pair of gold and onyx cufflinks and two gold chains. There was also a gold-plated lighter and two tie pins that would fetch a few quid.
He’d found the man’s jewellery. He’d found the woman’s costume jewellery; now he needed to find the woman’s good stuff.
Women liked to hide stuff under their lingerie. The next drawer he opened contained folded men’s T-shirts, shorts and sportswear.
The third drawer was filled with usual bric-a-brac that a man was likely to keep in his bedroom dresser… all worthless.
The bottom drawer was filled with lingerie. A few neatly folded satin and nylon slips and half-slips, also some nice satin and lace brassieres. The matching knickers were folded beside them along with two suspender belts. Next to them was the hosiery: some very nice fully fashioned stockings and Pretty Polly tights. Peter took off a glove and caressed the sheer slippery fabric of a pair of stockings then raised them to his nose and sniffed them.
They held the faint lingering scent of perfume. He rubbed them on his cheek. They were soft and silky-sheer, as was the pair of sheer-to-the-waist tights he lifted out next. The kinky side of Peter liked that the lady of the house sometimes wore stockings and that her tights were good quality. A lot of women today wore those cheap Tesco tights that bagged and wrinkled at the knees and ankles.
He replaced the hosiery and put his glove back on. The lady of the house didn’t have much in the way of lingerie but what she had was nice. Peter wondered briefly if the woman who owned the lingerie might not be the owner’s wife; possibly a girlfriend who stayed over now and then?
Peter moved on to the wardrobe.
He found three cheap business suits and office shirts and some casual clothing. Jumpers and cardigans were folded on a shelf. One ladies skirt-suit, two dresses, two skirts and a couple of blouses took up what little space was left on the clothes rail. There were two pairs of high heels in the corner at the bottom of the wardrobe, the rest of the floor space taken up with men’s shoes and boots. The amount of men’s clothing considerably outweighed the ladies. Once again Peter pondered if the woman didn’t actually live in the house permanently.
On the top shelf he was surprised to find two wigstands. One had a shoulder-length blonde wig mounted on it, the other a black bob. They were both synthetic and wouldn’t fetch anything. Human hair wigs could a fetch a few quid if they were good quality.
He played his torch back over the dresser. The woman might not have a lot of clothing but she had a lot of makeup.
But then he hit pay-dirt.
A camera case held a nearly new Nikon F3 camera with an assortment of lenses and filters and a there was a good quality camera tripod. He put the camera case and tripod next to his carryall and checked his watch. He still had some time.
He found a cheap cashbox at the back of the shelf which he pried open with a screwdriver and found a little over one hundred pounds in notes and coins. He emptied the contents into his carryall.
He went back to the wardrobe and found a shoebox filled with colour photographs. They were mostly pictures of the woman he presumed owned the clothing. This was confirmed when he looked through the large collection of pictures and saw that she was wearing the skirts and blouses, the dresses, the suit and the shoes he had found in the wardrobe. In some of them she was dressed only in lingerie and posing provocatively put not pornographically.
Peter scooped up the pictures and was about to put them back in the shoebox when he realised that the woman was also wearing the wigs he seen on the wigstands.
Peter grinned to himself and scrutinised a couple of the photographs closely
“Fucking noncer!” he grimaced.
When Peter had picked up the occupant of the house in his minicab a little under an hour ago he hadn't really taken much notice of the man. He remembered that he was slim, almost petite, and dressed in a nice suit. His face was finely featured from what he could recall. Peter’s main concern at the time was determining whether or not the man was out for the evening so that he wouldn’t return when Peter went back to rob the house.
Peter pocketed a small stack of the pictures of the woman dressed in lingerie posing provocatively on the bed and put the rest back in the shoebox.
Beside the shoebox was a vinyl bag with a drawstring closure. He shined his torch inside the bag and grimaced. There was a douche, a vibrator and a flesh-coloured dildo. There was also a tube of KY personal lubricant. There was definitely no market for second-hand sex toys. He pulled the drawstring closed and put the bag back where he’d found it beside four VHS tapes in plastic cases. He took down the tapes and examined them. They were all ‘tranny porn’. They were the kind of tapes that some newsagents kept under the counter and sold to punters who liked that sort of thing. He perused the titles and on a whim he threw the copy of Crossdressed Sluts Banged Bonkers in his bag
The rest of the house gave up some nice silverware: a boxed set of Stirling silver antique cutlery, a platter and two candlesticks. There was also a silver picture frame and a couple of small antiques.
“Not a bad haul,” Peter said to himself as he shouldered the camera case, tripod and carryall.
He rifled through the occupant’s mail and found nothing of interest, except for a couple of payslips from the First Bank of Manchester paid to a Mister Lester Millington. Lester might work for a bank but was not rolling in money; he must be employed in a mid or low-level position Peter thought as he read the amounts on the payslips. He unlocked the front door and opened it a crack. The street was deserted and Peter simply walked out into the street and after the placing his carryall and the camera case and tripod on the back seat, he climbed into his minicab and drove away.
As he drove through the dark streets of Manchester he wondered what he might do with the pictures in his pocket and the video he had pilfered.
*****
Lester Millington, the owner of the house Peter Simpson had just robbed, had been dropped off at Bloom Street in Manchester. His final destination was the Black Sheep pub on Richmond Street but he didn’t want his driver to know that.
Lester always went there on Saturday night because it was drag queen bingo. Two sassy drag queens called the numbers and cut back-and-forth insulting each other with licentious banter which was also directed at the crowd. After bingo there was a sing-along led by the drag queens. An overtly gay man played piano to accompany them.
The Black Sheep was also a well-known haunt for transvestites and their admirers. Some of the girls were almost unclockable but some of them were obviously men dressed up in feminine finery.
Lester was jealous of the transvestites; especially the ones who looked beautifully feminine. It was not only their clothes, hair and makeup. It was the way they moved with feminine grace and their lilting voices: their tones were gentle and flutelike.
Lester practiced walking and talking like a woman when he was at home dressed as Lilly. He practiced female mannerisms and he was pretty good at it if he did say so himself.
But what he was mainly jealous of was that these transvestites had the courage and nerve to go out in public. He knew that some of them were married men with families who just needed to express their femininity but for some of the transvestites their love of crossdressing extended to sexual relations with each other and with men.
Lester could never do what they did. He worked as a bank clerk and was a respected member of the community with an extended family who lived nearby. The very thought of being caught presenting himself as Lilly terrified him.
He went to the Black Sheep and just watched, imaging himself sitting at a table dressed as Lilly, talking and laughing with the other ‘girls’, fobbing off admirers when they approached looking for a bit of slap and tickle. Lester just knew that Lilly would be a popular girl.
But she was never going to be a popular girl because Lilly was NEVER going to leave the house.
Lilly enjoyed just sitting around the house or walking around her living room talking to her imaginary girlfriends and admirers with her engaging girlish lilt and effeminate mannerisms. If the urge overwhelmed her, and it usually did, she would finish off the evening watching pornography, pleasuring herself with her sex toys, imagining that a handsome admirer had pressed himself upon her and she had willingly submitted to his charms.
On the night of the burglary, after being dropped off at Bloom Street, Lester had walked around the corner and then down Richmond Street and into the Black Sheep public house.
The place was in full swing and Lester bought some bingo tickets and settled in a corner at the back of the bar where he could see everything. The drag queens called the bingo numbers and amused the crowd with their rowdy and colourful banter. Then the lights were lowered and a projector screen dropped from the ceiling against one wall so that everyone could follow-the-bouncing-ball and sing along with the openly gay pianist and the raucous drag queens. After the sing-along finished the pub got quiet and the most of the out-of-towners who had come to see the show left the place to the gays and the transvestites and their admirers. The lights were further dimmed and there was a lot of kissing, cuddling and canoodling.
Lester kept his eyes on three very attractive transvestites who sat at a small table accompanied by three fellows who were trying their luck. Wendy, Brittany and Crystal were not the youngest trannies in the Black Sheep. They were about the same age as him and projected the same sense of style: short skirts, animal print blouses, high heels and smart jackets. Their hair and makeup was flamboyant and distinctive.
Lester had enjoyed his night out so far but this was the part of the evening when he became particularly melancholy. He really wished that Lilly was here instead of Lester, engaging with the other trannies and their admirers. He usually called it a night around now but tonight he was feeling particularly rancorous and he decided to do what he seldom ever did but felt so devious when he did it. He would follow one of the girls down to the canal.
Crystal was tall and slim and her flaming-red hair was worn with a fringe. She was wearing a pencil-skirted navy-blue suit with a single-breasted jacket and a burgundy satin blouse. The suit was cinched at the waist and fitted to the curves of her body. Her long legs were clad in black Cuban-heeled, fully-fashioned seamed stockings and her high-heels were open toed to show off the reinforced toes of her nylons.
Crystal's makeup was perfectly elegant, her eyes defined by eyeliner and mascara and her lips ruby-red. She was talking to a man about the same age as her who was nattily dressed in a suit and it was obvious that they knew each other well. Every now and then they would stop talking and kiss. The man’s hand was under the table stroking her stocking-sheathed thigh.
At closing time they got up to leave and Lester followed. He knew that Crystal was actually a married man with two kids and that the admirer was named Richard and was also married. If you stayed around the pub long enough and kept your mouth shut and your ears open it was amazing what you learned.
Lester followed the couple, now walking arm in arm along Chorlton Street and down the slippery stone steps to the towpath that ran alongside the canal. Crystal and Richard stopped frequently to kiss and cuddle which meant Lester had to stop too, pressing his body against the brickwork, watching Richard squeeze Crystal’s buttocks whilst slipping his hand under her skirt to stroke her legs. Lester was already jealous but now he was also becoming concupiscent.
Lester squeezed his cock through his trousers as he watched the lovers kiss and caress, then they moved off further down the towpath towards the places where people went to have illicit sex.
They passed men hiding in the gloom, embracing each other passionately. In a cut-out cloister in the brick wall running along the towpath he saw Brittany bent over with her skirt hitched up and her knickers around her ankles while a virile young sailor buggered her.
Crystal and Richard continued along the towpath until they came to a bricked archway and Crystal looked around furtively to ensure there were no coppers and then the couple ducked inside the cloister. Lester had followed Crystal here before and he pressed his body into one of the many cut-outs so that Crystal couldn’t see him. He sidled up to the entrance to the cloister and looked inside.
A streetlight across the canal cast gloomy yellow light but Lester could see the couple pressed against the wall kissing, Richard now had his hand right under Crystal’s skirt and Crystal was stroking Richard's cock through his trousers.
Lester became fully tumescent and he put his hand in his coat pocket and fished out a single nylon stocking.
There was an old mattress on the ground in the corner with a threadbare comforter on top. The cobbles around the mattress were littered with empty beer cans, pop bottles, cigarette butts and decaying condoms. It was not a nice place but it was located conveniently close to the Black Sheep and was relatively private. The gays and transvestites, most whom were closeted, really had nowhere else to go except for the lucky few who lived alone.
Lester watched as Crystal smoothed out the comforter on the mattress and lay down on it and Richard joined her. She hitched up her tight pencil skirt and opened her legs so that Richard could lie on top of her.
Lester unzipped his fly and freed his throbbing cock. Not even the cold night air could wither his throbbing phallus. He slid the nylon stocking over his cock, never taking his eyes of Crystal and her beau.
He watched them kiss, their lips firm but not crushing, their bodies pressed together but not yet frenetic. They were slowly building their desire and in no rush. The couple were happy to kiss and caress and let their desires slowly build to a crescendo, oblivious of their tawdry surroundings.
Lester improved his erection; the nylon stocking on his cock sending out little wavelets of pleasure as he slowly masturbated. He didn’t want to climax too soon. If he timed it right he could come right along with Crystal and Richard.
Crystal was stroking Richard's penis which was fully tumescent and aching for release. Her skirt was hiked all the way up and Lester could see Crystal’s hard cock tenting her knickers. Richard caressed Crystal’s cock through the silky knickers and she shuddered and pulled Richard tighter, her kisses became fully impassioned.
This was usually when Crystal would fellate her punter but tonight the couple seemed intent on foregoing that particular peccadillo and proceeding straight to coitus.
Richard eased aside the gusset of Crystal’s knickers and poked his cock inside them. Crystal’s hand scampered about, trying to find her purse, and when she did her fingers slipped inside and came out with a tube KY Jelly. She handed the tube to Richard who squeezed a gobbet of the viscous substance on his finger while Crystal pulled her skirt right up her waist out of the way so as not to stain it. Richard slipped his finger between Crystal’s stocking-sheathed legs into the crevice of her buttocks and smeared the lubricant on her sphincter and rubbed the remainder along the head and shaft of his erect penis.
“Ready?” Richard looked lovingly into Crystal’s eyes and she nodded.
Richard slowly pushed his engorged manhood into Crystal’s anus, her face contorted in a grimace as the steely tool pierced her sphincter.
“Go on honey, you know I’m always tight at first,” Crystal breathed and locked her ankles behind Richard’s back to encourage him.
Richard slid the full length of his cock all the way into Crystal's back passage until his scrotum was resting against her knickers.
Crystal smiled up at him and pulled his face to hers and kissed him, tightening her legs around his body, encouraging Richard to fuck her. Richard began to fuck Crystal with long slow strokes, easing his cock nearly all the way out of her tight anus and then pushing it back in slowly, relishing every scintilla of pleasure.
Lester began to stroke his cock in time with Richard’s thrusts although in his mind he wasn’t Richard, he was Crystal, lying on her back, being lovingly buggered by one of her many admirers. He could imagine what it felt like to be wearing the tight skirt and satin blouse, the sheer nylon stockings caressing her freshly shaved legs, her silky knickers cradling her buttocks and her scrotum, looking up at her high heels crossed behind Richard’s back.
Lester knew what a dildo felt like as it slid in and out of his bottom and he wondered if a real cock felt the same. It would likely feel far better he reasoned.
Crystal began to encourage Richard to fuck her harder and he complied, hammering his cock in and out of Crystal’s tight channel as she sighed and whimpered underneath him.
Lester stroked his cock harder and faster, keeping time with Richard’s thrusts.
Richard drove his cock all the way deep inside Crystal’s anus and grunted as he expressed his issue deep in her bowel. Crystal raked her heels on his back and howled with delight as she creamed her knickers. Lester’s cock exploded and he sighed along with them as a torrent of semen burst through the stocking and spattered on the cobblestones. A puddle of creamy white semen formed on the stocking as it caught the remainder of his seed as his climax peaked and then began to subside.
Crystal and Richard clung to each other as Richard ground his cock into her tight anus, and she held him close and gyrated her buttocks to encourage him and maximise her own pleasure. Their mouths were locked together in a kiss that went on for what seemed like eternity.
After the crescendo of their lovemaking Richard and Crystal had to deal with the practicalities. Richard withdrew his penis from her anus and Crystal dabbed at the front of her knickers with a handkerchief to soak up her semen, then she handed it to Richard who wiped his cock and put it away. Crystal pulled a fresh pair of knickers out of her purse and shimmied out of the semen-drenched knickers she was wearing. She put the damp knickers in a plastic bag which went into her purse and then she pulled on the clean pair. She straightened the seams of her stockings and pulled down her skirt and Richard helped her to stand up.
Lester pulled the semen soaked stocking off his cock and put it in his pocket. He watched Crystal straighten her clothing and then she and Richard engaged in long farewell kiss. She wiped her lipstick off his mouth with a tender gesture and then Richard left the cloister and walked quickly down the towpath, heading home to a bed where his wife snored contently, knowing she wouldn’t have to endure her once-a-week shagging.
Crystal fixed her lipstick and left the cloister and walked the other way. She would walk home and slip through the back gate into her garden and unlock her small workshop where she would emerge wearing men’s work clothes, the scent of perfume washed away and replaced with the smell of two-stroke engine oil and bottled beer. Crystal’s wife knew exactly what her husband got up to on the nights when he pretended to be working late into the night in his workshop. She’d found his stash of ladies clothing, heels, makeup and wigs years ago but she asked no questions and got told no lies. Other than her husband’s fondness for crossdressing their marriage was happy.
Lester had long since dropped the semen soaked nylon he had used for masturbatory purposes into the canal and arrived home around the same time as Crystal and Richard. He had walked home to clear his mind. He found the front door to his house unlocked and his house burgled.
*****
Detective Constable Steve Vogel wouldn’t normally attend a domestic break-in, especially where the burglar hadn't taken anything of great value but there had been a string of break-ins across Greater Manchester where the victims had been dropped off by a minicab and their house robbed shortly after.
The police suspected that a minicab driver was picking up fares from residences, dropping off the customer and then going back to burgle the house.
The house was a typical two-up two-down in a nondescript area on the outskirts of the city. Steve parked out front on the single yellow line and put a ‘police business’ sign on the dash to deter the overenthusiastic wheel clampers. He knocked on the door and was greeted by a slim little man with longish hair wearing a business suit. The man had a cup of tea in one hand and a piece of toast in the other and he had to juggle the tea and toast in order to open the door.
“Detective Constable Steve Vogel,” Steve said and showed the man his warrant card.
“Come in detective. Sorry I was just about to leave for work. I didn’t expect the Greater Manchester Police to send a detective. I just thought they’d send a wooden-top,” Lester Millington immediately regretted using the pejorative.
“Can I come in?” Steve ignored the sleight against his uniformed colleagues.
“Yes of course. I haven’t touched anything. I slept on the sofa bed in the front room so as not to disturb the crime scene. Fingerprints, forensics and all that,” Lester giggled a little nervously.
Steve winced and followed Lester inside, grimacing a little. ‘Did this little squirt think someone had nicked the crown jewels or something?’
“Sure I’ll take a look but all I really need is a list and a description of the stolen items. What I want to talk to you about is your movements before the burglary,” Steve said.
Lester baulked a little. He didn’t want to have to explain what he was doing in Canal Street.
“Ok. I have written up a list and a description of the stolen items. I feel a little silly now,” Lester choked down his toast and slurped tea.
“So sorry, how rude of me. Can I make you a cup of tea?” Lester blushed.
“No, please don’t feel silly and yes I’d love a cuppa; white and two please,” Steve followed Lester into the kitchen.
Lester handed Steve the list and put the kettle on the hob. Steve studied the list.
“Most of the stuff was stolen from my bedroom,” Lester said as he spooned PG Tips into the teapot.
“Do you mind if I go upstairs and look around. As you’ve gone to the trouble of leaving the crime scene untouched, who knows, I might find something,” Steve made his way to the bottom of the staircase.
“Sure; go on up. I’ll bring up the tea,” Lester fussed with cups and saucers.
Steve climbed the stairs and went into the bedroom. It was clean and neat and smelled vaguely of perfume. He saw that the dresser drawers were open and the wardrobe doors were ajar. He put on a pair of latex gloves and looked in the dresser drawers and then made his way over to the wardrobe. He opened the doors wide and looked at the clothing hanging from the clothes rail. The men’s suits were cheap. If they were any good the burglar would have taken them. Same with the women’s clothing.
He looked at the shelves and rightly figured that the camera, tripod and cash had been taken from there. The tin cashbox was still on the duvet, the lock would have taken seconds to break. Steve was studying the list that Lester had given him when Lester came through the door carrying a tea tray. Lester reminded Steve of his sister, the way he balanced the tray and took delicate little steps so that he didn’t spill the tea.
There was an assortment of digestive biscuits arranged on a little plate. ‘Did this peculiar little man think they were having a tea party?’
Steve took the proffered cup of tea, carefully balancing the saucer. He took a sip and put the teacup down on the tray and flicked open the paper that Lester had given him.
“It looks like your wife's jewellery is missing but I didn’t see any of it listed as stolen,” Steve commented and picked up his tea and took a sip.
“Wife? What wife? I don’t have a wife,” Lester blanched and felt the blood drain from his head.
The detective nodded at the array of cosmetics carefully laid out on the dresser and pointed to the wardrobe with his teacup indicating the women’s clothing.
Lester thought he might faint.
How stupid was he? He had deliberately left the stolen costume jewellery off the list but he should have cleared away the makeup, the wigs and the female clothing and shoes, maybe put them in a suitcase and hid them in them in the attic.
“Are you ok Mister Millington? You look a little pale,” Steve asked.
“I’m fine. As I said I’m not married,” Lester sounded skittish.
Steve pondered this for only a second and then he realised what the situation was.
“That’s ok Mister Millington. I understand,” Steve gave Lester a knowing smile and Lester thought he would definitely faint now.
“You have a lady friend who keeps some clothes and makeup here but doesn’t live here. She keeps her jewellery at home,” Steve gave Lester a licentious grin.
“Don’t worry sir. We are neither the morals police nor are we likely to tell her husband… if that were the case of course,” Steve sniffed.
Lester was immediately and profoundly relieved.
“Thank you for your discretion Detective Constable,” some colour returned to Lester's face.
“I only asked because the wristwatch, the cufflinks and tie pins and the gold chains and the lighter were on the list so I wondered why no ladies jewellery had been taken when I saw the ladies clothing and makeup,” Steve was still a little suspicious.
“Lilly… that’s my lady-friend’s name, is only over a couple of times a week so you are correct. She only keeps a few clothes and some makeup here. Maybe I should show you where the flatware and the candlesticks were taken from down in the dining room,” Lester was suddenly in a hurry to get the policeman out of his bedroom.
Steve had made detective because of his investigative and analytical skills and suddenly it dawned on him what was going on here and why Lester Millington was so nervous and behaving so furtive.
When he was a Trainee Detective Constable, Steve’s first assignment had been with the vice squad
The Chief Constable of Greater Manchester, had accused gays of swirling in a cesspit of their own making and encouraged his officers to stalk Canal Street’s dank alleys and the canal’s locks and bridges and expose anyone caught in a clinch. The police denied that they were motivated by anti-gay prejudice and was merely enforcing the law on sexual activity in public places. The vice squad also enforced a strict licensing regime for bars and nightclubs in the central Manchester area.
Trainee Detective Constable Vogel was well aware that many of the provocatively ‘dressed to the nines’ ladies in those bars and nightclubs were transvestites. He’d nicked enough of them having trysts with their admirers along the canal wall and in the cut-outs. Many a married man or white-collar professional had offered him a bribe to let them go and not report the incident and the transvestites had offered him sex to keep them out of the nick. It was an easy way to make beer money and get a free blowjob.
All Lester could think of was getting rid of the incriminating VHS tapes, photographs and the sex toys in his wardrobe before the copper saw them. He couldn’t remove the wigs, clothes and makeup now because that would raise suspicion. The detective had given him a perfect alibi for being in possession of ladies clothing and he would cling to that story.
“I’ll send a fingerprint technician around to see if we can get any usable prints Mister Millington so please don’t touch any of the surfaces near where your valuables were stolen. I’ll get him around this morning,” Steve said, finishing his tea.
“He’ll need to take your fingerprints for elimination purposes. We might also have to talk to, what is her name, Lilly? We might need her prints also,” Steve set down his cup and saucer and snatched up another digestive biscuit.
“I’ll show myself out,” Steve started walking towards the front door.
Lester followed him and asked a question.
“Is there any chance my stuff will be recovered. I know it’s not worth a great deal but the lighter and the tie pins and cufflinks are heirlooms,” Lester held the door open.
“The reality is that burglars usually wear gloves but I’ll be checking a few fences to see if your property turns up. You can say goodbye to the cash,” Steve said.
“One last question about your movements last night, did you use a minicab?” Steve asked.
“Yes. I called for one about seven-thirty from Caroline’s Cabs. It was a Ford Cortina,” Lester offered, grateful that the detective had not asked for his destination.
Steve made a note in his police notebook and waved goodbye.
Lester shut the door and hurried upstairs and put the vinyl bag containing his sex toys and the videos and the box of photographs up in the attic. He noted that one of his VHS tapes was missing but that wasn’t really important, he was hardly likely to report the theft of illegal pornography was he?
He called the bank and told his manager about the burglary and him needing to stay at home until the fingerprint technician arrived and his boss was sympathetic.
*****
The fingerprint technician arrived about an hour after Detective Constable Steve Vogel had left Lester Milligan’s house and went straight to work. He took some exemplar prints from Lester and began dusting for prints in the bedroom and then in the dining room.
“I’ll need to take these back to the station and process them but just looking at them on the cards there appears to be only one set of prints, which are yours. I guess Steve told you that burglars almost always wear gloves,” the technician said as he packed up his gear.
“I’m supposed to get a set of exclusion prints from a lady named Lilly but I don’t see the need now because yours are the only prints I’ve found. Strange that this Lilly woman didn’t leave any prints,” the technician closed his case and stood up ready to leave.
“I’ve given the place a good clean since the last time Lilly was here. I probably wiped them away,” Lester lied and breathed a sigh of relief.
When the fingerprint technician finally left, Lester went to work hoping that the police would recover the family heirlooms. He gave up on ever seeing the cash again but he had home contents insurance with his bank which covered up to two hundred pound in cash and would also cover the loss of his photographic equipment, provided Lester submitted a police report to the insurer.
He was mainly glad that he had been able to get away with hiding the fact that he was in fact Lilly and once again berated himself for not putting away the clothes, wigs and makeup.
*****
Peter Simpson was sipping a pint in the bar of the Old Wellington public house when Detective Constable Steve Vogel walked in, looked around and sat down next Peter at the end of the bar away from the prying ears of the other drinkers.
“The usual please Betty,” Steve said when the barmaid approached.
Peter Simpson’s eyes went straight to Betty’s long legs sheathed in flesh-toned nylons. Betty was an old style barmaid who dressed to show off her tits, bum and legs which made her popular with the punters and earned her generous tips. Englishmen were not known for tipping bar staff but Betty had figured out that strutting her stuff behind the bar paid dividends.
“You come to feel my collar Detective Constable Vogel?” Peter said with his eyes locked on Betty’s arse while he sipped his pint.
“You’ve been a busy boy Peter. I’ve been investigating a few of your recent escapades. You have been very busy indeed. What have you got for me?” Betty delivered Steve’s pint and left them alone.
“Just as well that it’s you investigating me then isn’t it. Here’s a couple-a ton. I’ll have some more for you next week when my fence shifts the jewellery,” Peter tapped a folded newspaper and slid it down the bar.
Steve Vogel picked up the newspaper and surreptitiously peeked inside the envelope secreted in the folds. He gave a satisfied grin when we saw the neat bundle of twenty pound notes.
“What did you make of that Lester bloke on Smith Street?” Peter asked.
“I was around there this morning. I think he might be one of those Canal Street Mollies,” Steve studied his pint critically and happy with what he saw, he took a generous gulp, drinking half of it.
“I’m sure he’s a Molly. Look at these. I lifted them from his gaff,” Peter slid an envelope across the bar.
Steve studied the photographs and smiled when he recognised Lester Millington in drag. Not that anybody who didn’t know Lester’s secret would clock the attractive transvestite in the pictures.
“I’ll bet you a monkey her name is Lilly,” Steve sniggered at his own joke and handed the envelope back to Peter.
“What are you going to do with the pictures?” Steve finished the remainder of his pint and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Not sure. There may be something in it. A little blackmail or extortion. I bet that nonce will pay a few quid to get these back,” Peter waved the envelope like a fan.
“They aint noncers Peter. They are just misunderstood gentlemen who like to dress as women occasionally. They’re only criminals when they go down to the canal to play the skin-flute or take it up the chuff,” Steve said sarcastically.
“Stay away from Smith Street,” Steve said, suddenly serious.
“You know how this works. You never knock over the same place twice and you spread your crimes far and wide around the manor. Get rid of those photographs,” Steve pointed at the envelope and got up off his stool ready to leave.
“You pay for my pint and forget about our Lilly or I will be feeling your collar. See you next week,” Detective Constable Steve Vogel left The Old Wellington with the newspaper firmly tucked under his arm.
*****
A week after the burglary Lester Millington was relieved that the kerfuffle surrounding the crime seemed to be over. He was informed that no prints other than his own had been recovered from his house, that the cash was well and truly gone for good and that the description of his valuables had been circulated to the local pawn shops but it was unlikely that any of it would be recovered.
Lester was just thankful that his life could return to normal. He put all of Lilly’s accoutrements back in place, including the sex toys. He hadn’t dressed as Lilly since that fateful night and the urge to do so was overwhelming. He took his time preparing. He languished in the suspense and excitement that always washed over him as he began his transformation. First came the careful close shaving of his face, legs and genitals, plucking the few rouge hairs from his chest. Next, the unpleasant but essential requirement to douche until the water ran clear.
Lilly didn’t always use the dildos and vibrators on herself but she did more often than not and when she first began crossdressing and using sex toys she had been caught out now and then because she hadn't douched. The consequences of not doing so were very disagreeable so she had learned her lesson and made douching part of her routine.
The ritual continued and it was at this time for Lester to become Lilly; his feminine alter ego.
It was always the same, once established, Lilly’s transformation ritual never varied. It was proven by years of practice. She pulled Lester’s collar-length brown hair into a crude ponytail and stuffed it under a wigcap, pushing some stray locks under the elastic and into the mesh. With Lester’s natural hair corralled, Lilly’s face was unobstructed and she could begin her makeup ritual.
First the concealer, not too much, just enough to cover a blemish here and there and fill in some ancient acne scars. Then she applied liquid foundation using a sponge to achieve full facial coverage, right down to the base of her neck followed by a liberal dusting of finishing powder. The base completed it was time for some colour: some blush, applied carefully to accent Lilly’s fine cheekbones. Next she applied the eyeliner above the lash line, heavy and black. This was the hardest bit to get right. Yellow eyeshadow with a hint of shine, applied liberally to the upper eye socket, then mauve on the inner lids and crease, and finally purple on the outer lids. It sounded garish but it looked effective when she smoothed it with her fingertip.
Lilly finished off with a heavy coating of black mascara on her upper and lower eyelashes and finally an application of ruby-red lipstick. Lilly used two-coat Maybelline lipstick. It was supposedly smudge-proof and non-transferrable but Lilly didn’t know. She had never even kissed a man, let alone given a blowjob.
Lilly placed the black bob over her natural hair, pinning it through the wigcap. It framed her face beautifully and caressed her shoulders as she combed the nap and the fringe until it shone glossy jet black. The face looking back at her in the mirror looked nothing like mousy little Lester, it was beautiful sexy Lilly.
Lilly stood up and left the dresser to walk over to the wardrobe. Tonight she would wear the skirt-suit, her mauve satin blouse and the black heels; she’d already laid out her lingerie and hosiery on the bed ready to wear. She laid the suit, blouse and heels beside them on the bed and sat down on the edge. She’d already slipped into the red-satin, black-lace trimmed suspender belt and sliding the sheer, fully-fashioned black stockings up her legs and clipping the garter snaps to the welts invoked shivers of pleasure. She pushed her testes into her inguinal canal and tucked her penis and scrotum between her legs and pulled the red satin full-cut knickers up tight to hold her tuck in place.
Lilly straightened her seams and then stepped into the tight grey skirt with the kick-pleat in the rear. She didn’t bother with a brassiere tonight; she wanted to feel the satin blouse against her flesh. She buttoned her blouse, tucked the tails into the skirt and zipped it closed. Lilly had replaced some of her costume jewellery: faux emerald earrings and a matching necklace and bracelet. She put them on and stepped into her high heels, put on her jacket and then checked herself out in the mirror.
She looked gorgeous; stunning in fact. The emeralds contrasted nicely with the grey skirt-suit and complemented her emerald-green eyes.
Lilly sprayed herself with perfume and was ready. She would go downstairs, drink some wine, maybe smoke a cigarette and walk around the house, maybe even venture into the backyard but she wouldn’t leave her residence. Finally she’d look at some ladies fashion magazines and then finish the evening watching pornography on the VHS while she used her sex toys.
She laid her sex toys and a tube of KY Jelly on the nightstand and inserted her copy of Trannies At The Truck Stop into the small television with the inbuilt VCR that was set up on a lowboy facing her bed. The burglar had stolen her copy of Crossdressed Sluts Banged Bonkers which was her favourite.
She switched off the light as she left the room and walked downstairs carefully, using the glow of the hallway lampstand to guide her. The hallway was dark which was strange because she would have sworn that she’d left on the lamp beside the easy chair in the living room. Her heels click-clacked on the oak timber floorboards as she made her way into the living room, careful not trip on the scattered throw rugs.
She could just make out the shape of the television set, the easy chairs and the coffee table in the gloom. She walked into the middle of the room and then she gasped and rocked back on her heels as the table lamp was suddenly illuminated
A strange man was sitting in the big comfortable easy chair. He looked up at her appreciatively.
“Hello Lilly,” he grinned.
Lilly stepped back out of his grasp as Peter Simpson lunged for her.
“Don’t be shy Lilly. You weren’t shy when you took these,” Peter tossed a small stack of polaroids at her.
The photographs hit her in the chest and fell to the floor. Lilly could see that they were some of the pictures she had hidden in her wardrobe. She knelt down and picked one up. In the picture Lilly was wearing nothing but a matching bra and knickers, suspenders, stockings and high heels, lying on her bed posed provocatively. Her face was fixed with an inviting smile; her makeup heavy and slutty.
Anyone looking at the photograph would never guess that it was Lester… that is until you told the person that it was Lester and then the resemblance would be obvious.
“I have more. You have quite a collection in that shoebox in your bedroom. I bet you didn’t even notice that some of them were missing,” Peter chuckled and patted the armrest of the easy chair.
“Come and sit beside me and we will talk about how you might get the other pictures back,” Peter grinned again.
Lilly was overcome with fear. She couldn’t believe that this man was in her house, sitting in her chair uninvited. Even scarier was that the man knew her name.
Lilly wasn’t stupid. The man had her photographs and he was vaguely familiar. He was the minicab driver! He was the burglar who had robbed her house. And he had more pictures of her!
“Come on Lilly; sit,” the man patted the armrest again.
Lilly’s feet didn’t seem to be working properly and she barely made it to the easy chair. She perched her bottom on the armrest seemingly in a daze.
“That’s a good girl, now let’s get a good look at you,” the man reached out and switched on the standard lamp beside the chair, suddenly enveloping the corner of the lounge room in bright light.
Peter was amazed at the transformation. Lilly looked nothing like the mousey little man he had picked up in his minicab and driven to Bloom Street. Peter knew all about what happened on Canal Street; he had picked up enough fares there. He’d seen the transvestites. He’d had them in the back of his cab but they held no interest for him. He didn’t understand why a man would want to dress up as a woman.
But over the preceding week Peter had become obsessed with the pictures he had stolen from the house on Smith Street. He had also watched Crossdressed Sluts Banged Bonkers thinking he would be repulsed by it but instead he had become fascinated.
When Steve Vogel had told Peter that the person in the pictures used the name Lilly it made perfect sense to him. The person in the pictures was Lilly. She looked like a Lilly. He didn’t think of the person in the pictures as a man, in fact he never thought of Lester Millington at all when he looked at the pictures. One of the ‘actresses’ in Crossdressed Sluts Banged Bonkers resembled Lilly and Peter would repeatedly replay the scenes in which she appeared.
Peter had become infatuated with Lilly despite the fact that Steve Vogel had told him to ditch the pictures and stay away from Smith Street. Peter had become obsessed with her.
“You're the man who burgled my house,” Lilly whispered, still terrified.
Peter just smiled at her. Lilly was aware that Peter was scrutinising her.
“I took those pictures as souvenirs. I was advised to throw them away but then I thought they might be worth something to someone,” Peter answered.
Lilly felt a wave of dread wash over her but then a thought crept to the front of her mind.
“You called me Lilly. How do you know my name is Lilly?” she asked tentatively.
The only person she had told about Lilly was Detective Constable Steve Vogel when Lester had lied to him and told the detective that he had a lady friend named Lilly, implying that Lilly was a married woman with whom he was having an affair.
“I have my sources,” Peter replied and realised that he’d made mistake using her name.
Lilly sat primly on the armrest with her feet planted on the floor trying vainly to keep her short skirt from riding up. Peter could smell her perfume and in the light from the standard lamp he could see how attractive she was. His eyes were drawn to her legs swathed in shimmery nylon. He placed a hand on her knee and she baulked but didn’t get up.
“When I dropped you off at Bloom Street you were dressed as a man and I didn’t see you carrying a bag or anything. Do you go somewhere else to dress up?” Peter had incorrectly made the assumption that Lilly went to Canal Street dressed as Lester and then dressed as a woman before hitting the establishments that catered to her kind.
“I don’t go out. Lester goes there sometimes. Just to look. He doesn't do anything distasteful,” Lilly answered, feeling totally awestruck to be speaking about Lester in the third person.
“So you are… what is the term your kind use… in the closet?” Peters was absentmindedly stroking Lilly’s leg.
Peter loved the feel of the slinky nylons on his fingertips, they were cool and silky and the flesh underneath was soft and yielding. Lilly was aware of what the man was doing and at first she was terrified but deep down inside herself she was flattered that this man found her attractive. She had always thought that if her secret were to be exposed that the person who uncovered her ruse would be repulsed by her. In some ways it was comforting that this man was content to talk to her as if she was a woman and that he didn’t find her repulsive. She knew that it was madness but she had no control over her thoughts.
“Lilly never goes out,” she whispered.
“She should. She’s beautiful,” Peter softly squeezed her thigh.
Lilly was flattered but she wasn’t stupid. This man hadn't broken into her house to complement her on her femininity.
“What do you want? You have all my cash and everything else of value. You even have some of my pictures,” Lilly said a little heatedly and then it dawned on her.
“You’re here to blackmail me aren’t you?” Lilly gasped.
Peter smiled wickedly. Then he said something totally surprising and incongruous.
“I know that you keep a bottle of scotch in the kitchen cupboard. Why don’t you pour us both a drink and we can discuss it?” Peter’s smile became a leer.
Lilly sprang to her feet, happy to move away from the burglar but wasn’t there also an inkling of disappointment? Wasn’t the man’s complements and his soft touch comforting? Wasn’t there a bizarre feeling of contentment and satisfaction in finally talking to another person while presenting as Lilly? Wasn’t it something she had always dreamed of?
But not like this! Not with a man who had stolen from her and was now here to blackmail her.
Lilly walked into the little kitchen. Peter watched her through the alcove connecting the two rooms. He liked the way she walked, striding primly and sensuously on her high heels, taking small confident steps, swaying her hips, her long coltish legs displayed to perfection in the short skirt. Her buttocks were pert, the tight skirt emphasising their shape.
Lilly briefly considered making a bolt for the front door but then what? She would be out in the street but where could she go for help? Her neighbours would be appalled; they might even laugh at her or ridicule her. She was sure that the burglar and the detective were somehow in cahoots so she couldn’t even call the police, could she?
She stood on her tippytoes to open the cupboard door and her skirt rode up exposing the gauzy welts of her stockings and Peter felt his cock begin to engorge. He imagined what it would be like to stroke those gauzy black stocking-tops. But then what? If she was a woman he’d slip his hand up under her skirt and stroke her knickers but Lilly had something in her knickers that he’d find repulsive.
Or would he? ‘Let’s just see where this goes,’ he thought to himself.
He had come here to blackmail Lester but had ended up having a delightful if improbably surreal conversation with Lilly. Peter hadn't even thought of Lester once since he had met Lilly. It was as if Lester no longer existed.
Lilly poured three fingers of scotch into two glasses with trembling hands. She had her back to him but she could feel the burglar's gaze on her body as she did so; his eyes coveting her bottom and her legs. She self-consciously tugged at the hem of her skirt. Peter smiled when he saw her do it. It was a little cute.
When she turned around and began walking back towards him the sight was even more delightful. This woman was stunning: so pretty, so sexy, so feminine. She seemed to glide across the floor, taking dainty sensuous steps in her heels, carefully holding the glasses in front of her. Her only fault was that she was flat chested but Peter had never been a ‘tit man’. A nice pert bottom and long sexy legs did it for him every time.
Peter noticed that Lilly’s nailpolish matched her lipstick when she handed him her drink. He was the kind of man who paid attention to details like that in his women. He liked women who dressed to show off their best assets.
Lilly’s head was spinning. What the fuck was she doing pouring this man a drink? She should have kicked off her heels and raced upstairs and locked herself in her bedroom. But she hadn't, had she?
Peter patted the armrest and Lilly perched her bottom as instructed but this time she felt slightly more comfortable doing so. So far the burglar had not been violent or even raised his voice. She was caught in a trap but she didn’t feel the menace of physical violence. Best see what this man wanted from her and see what she could do to extricate herself from the situation.
Lilly handed Peter his drink and their fingertips touched briefly. Lillie’s long delicate fingers with manicured and painted fingernails grazed Peter’s callused digits. They both felt a little spark of excitement but neither of them acknowledged it.
The man returned his hand to her knee and rested it there and Lilly flinched but remained seated. She gulped her drink and the scotch burned her throat as she swallowed it.
The burglar seemed content to just sit and drink his scotch and Lilly became annoyed at his silence. Scared as she was, she desperately wanted to know what the man wanted with her.
“Now what?” she whispered, taking another anxious sip of her scotch.
“I know that you work at the First Bank of Manchester. I’ve seen the payslips,” Peter began.
“A man of my capabilities could easily track down your family; as I said, I have my sources. What do you think would happen if I was to send a picture or two to your bank manager or slip them through the letter boxes of your family?” Peter held his drink up to the light and studied it.
“You know what would happen. My life would be ruined,” Lilly sighed.
Despite being terrified, Lilly was relieved that the man was finally getting to the point. She knew that she was going to be blackmailed but having the burglar confirm his intention meant that she could find out exactly what the man wanted from her.
“Well I have a proposal for you Lilly. As you have guessed correctly I drive a minicab but my main source of income is derived from burglary. As I said, I have resources at my disposal to assist me in these endeavours. Not to go into detail but there are people who are willing to exchange stolen property for cash,” Peter paused and took another sip of scotch.
“The problem that I have is that I can’t deposit the proceeds of my ill-gotten gains in my bank account. That would raise a few eyebrows and bring unwanted attention from certain people, not the least being Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs,” Peter sighed.
“There are also other villains out there on both sides of the law who know about my proclivity to steal who would like to get their hands on my proceeds. Keeping cash at my gaff or in my lockup is really not very secure. Do you know that there are some very bad people out there Lilly?” Peter chuckled at his own joke.
Lilly didn’t bother answering the rhetorical question but she couldn’t help a wry grin at the thought of someone thieving from a thief.
“Now, if I had a friend who worked in a bank, they could set up an account for me in another name. A what do you call it… a pseudonym? And that person could act on my behalf making deposits and withdrawals for me and no one else would need to know, would they?” Peter mused.
“Of course that person would need to know the intricacies of the British banking system and I would have to trust them implicitly,” Peter continued.
“So we finally get down to it. You want me to set up a bank account under a pseudonym so you can hide the proceeds of your illegal activities from the authorities and other criminals?” Lilly sounded almost relieved.
At least now she knew why the burglar was here.
“Exactly,” Peter drummed his fingers on Lilly’s knee absentmindedly.
“I can do that. It’s risky but I can do it,” Lilly sighed.
“Everything is risky darling. I live in a world of risk and reward,” Peter smiled at her and for the first time Lilly realised how handsome the man was.
Peter was tall and lean with wavy black hair. His face was weathered but handsome with a long nose, high cheekbones and brilliant blue eyes. He looked like some rugged outdoorsman.
“And if I do this, you return the pictures and leave me alone?” Lilly asked.
“Well not really. I wouldn’t want to show my face at the bank so you would have to make deposits and withdrawals on my behalf so that would mean we would have to meet regularly,” Peter squeezed Lilly’s knee.
“Ok, I’ll do it!” Lilly said impulsively.
“We can arrange a dead drop that only the both of us know about,” Lilly continued.
“Nah, I don’t think so Lilly. I don’t want anything to do with Lester Millington, just you darlin’. I’ll come around here about once a week and we can do our business and maybe have a drink and be sociable, just like we are now,” Peter grinned.
Lilly baulked.
“I’d hardly call this sociable,” Lilly snapped.
“Oh, once you get to know me you’ll find I’m very sociable,” Peter laughed.
The burglar's laugh wasn’t unpleasant but it was disarming.
“I don’t want to get to know you!” Lilly hissed.
“Well that’s all part of the deal I’m afraid. Now why don’t you take me upstairs so you can get to know me better,” Peter grinned.
Before Lilly could answer Peter sprang from the chair and pulled Lilly to her feet. He took her glass and put it aside and turned her around and pushed her ahead of him.
“I know the way but I prefer that you lead,” Peter chuckled.
Lilly had no choice but to comply and she walked slowly towards the staircase feeling trepidatious and fearful. She knew deep inside herself what was going to happen to her and her head was spinning.
But deep down wasn’t she also a little excited?
Lester Millington lived a boring life with few friends and a mundane job at the bank. His only release was dressing up as Lilly but Lilly was too scared to do anything other than sit around the house playing dressup, watching pornography and using sex toys on herself.
On her behalf Lester made forays down to Canal Street to see girls living the life that Lilly wished she could live. Was this the opportunity she had waited for all her life? To live a second secret life full of intrigue and deception and to be coveted by a handsome man who appreciated her femininity and beauty? These thoughts ran through her head as she reached the staircase and began her assent.
Was she going to fight the burglar or submit? She doubted that she would win if the altercation became physical and she had decided that calling for help was not a course of action available to her. Wouldn’t it be better if she just surrendered?
If she surrendered she couldn’t blame her herself for any consequences could she? She would not be responsible for her actions. It would be self-preservation. Wouldn’t anybody else do the same thing in her predicament?
Peter was close behind her, his eyes glued to her bottom and her legs. He was a bum and leg man and Lilly’s were magnificent. He was tempted to reach out and squeeze her buttocks and stroke her thighs and calves but he resisted the temptation. He preferred to wait until he had her in her bedroom where she would have no choice but to submit to him, besides, why spoil the main course by overindulging in the appetiser.
But a little taste wouldn’t hurt, would it?
When she was halfway up the staircase Peter reached out and traced the backseam of her stocking with his fingertip. The gossamer hose felt smooth and silky to his touch. Lilly shuddered and came to a halt on the stairs, her right foot on the riser one step above her left. She gripped the banister tightly.
Lilly felt the man’s finger on her leg, tracing the seam of her stocking. She was shocked but the feeling wasn’t exactly unpleasant. In fact it felt very sensuous. She froze and hung onto the banister as she began to shake.
She felt the man’s finger trace the seam right up the top of her stocking and then all the way down to her ankle. Then she felt the man’s hand caress her calf and slowly work its way up her leg until his fingers found the dark welt of her stocking-top where his fingers lingered, playing with the silver clasp of her garter.
Peter followed his hand with his eyes as his finger stroked Lilly’s nylon-sheathed calf, working his way upward, pausing to make little circlets on the gauzy fabric where tiny wrinkles formed at the back of her knee. The house was silent and he could hear Lilly’s breathing quicken and become laboured. She shuddered as his hand continued its journey up her thigh and under her skirt, halting when he found her stocking-top.
He breathed in her perfume as he fingered the garter clasp and stroked the gauzy dark band on the welt. Lilly’s skirt had a kick-pleat which had opened because of the way she was standing with one foot above the other and he caught a glimpse of red satin knicker sheathing her plump buttock.
Peter was fully erect and eager to progress.
He removed his hand from under Lilly’s skirt.
“Go on,” he pushed her lightly in the back and Lilly continued her assent until she came to the first floor landing.
Lilly stopped on the landing and turned to face the burglar.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she whispered.
Peter looked down at Lilly’s beautiful face. He gently brushed her fringe aside and studied her emerald-green eyes embellished by the eyeshadow, eyeliner and mascara. Her full ruby-red lips were fixed in a pout. She probably didn’t realise how sexy she looked with her lips pursed that way.
Peter leaned down and kissed her.
Lilly felt the man’s lips press softly against hers. He didn’t grab her or maul her. He didn’t even press that hard; his lips lightly caressed her own. In a way it was more sensual than if he had mashed his lips against hers and drove his tongue into her mouth. The kiss was almost childlike, soft, sensual and tactile without being overly eager or brutish which is what she had expected. In some ways it was even more erotic because the passion was restrained.
Lilly hadn't been kissed intimately since Lester had kissed Susan Winthrop whilst playing a game of kiss-chase at school. Because of the implied menace, this kiss was far more salacious despite being chaste. This kiss was an indicator to Lilly of what lay ahead for her, even more so than the groping on the staircase. The intimacy and solicitude was a harbinger of the near future. The man wasn’t going to force himself on her. He was going to seduce her.
Peter breathed in Lilly’s perfume as his lips brushed hers. Her lips were full and ripe and pillowy and he could taste her sweet breath and a creamy tinge of lipstick. His cock was throbbing and he was tempted to pull Lilly into his arms and press himself against her; to drive his tongue into her mouth while he fondled her.
He resisted the urge and with some regret he broke the kiss.
“If you are going to kiss me at least tell me your name,” Lilly whispered.
Peter realised that despite their engaging conversation and their intimacy, he hadn't introduced himself.
“I’m Peter Simpson, Lilly. Now if you will just continue onto your bedroom please,” Peter put his hands lightly on Lilly’s shoulders and turned her in the direction of her bedroom.
He followed Lilly into her bedroom. Her smell was everywhere. The musky exotic fragrance of her perfume, the sweet vanilla scent of foundation and finishing powder, the almost nostalgic and wistful redolence of OMO washing powder from the fresh sheets on the bed. He imagined Lilly dressed in a negligée making the bed, sad because she was the only person who would ever occupy it.
It suddenly occurred to Peter that he probably knew more about Lilly than anyone else, even though he only knew her because he had burgled her house and from the conversation they’d had downstairs. Lilly was trapped in her house but longed to be out in the world.
Lilly turned to face him and he saw the apprehension in her gaze. She was trembling and her lips had once again pursed into the pouty moue that she probably didn’t even realise was sexy. He felt sorry for her. Peter realised that she was nothing like the salacious actress in Crossdressed Sluts Banged Bonkers, she was demure, closeted and frightened.
Peter stepped into Lilly and put his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her beautiful green eyes and leaned down. She puckered her lips slightly in anticipation of a kiss that never came.
Peter kissed Lilly’s cheek and backed away.
“I’m sorry. I should go. This is all wrong,” Peter whispered apologetically.
He was turning to leave when Lilly put out her hand and gripped his wrist.
“Stop!” she breathed and stepped into him.
She searched his handsome face and saw remorse. It wasn’t what she wanted to see. She wanted to see the hunger and covetousness she had seen on his face downstairs. Lilly wanted him to want her.
“I surrender,” she whispered.
“I don’t understand?” Peter was confused.
Peter wanted this woman so badly but he didn’t want to coerce or blackmail her into submitting to his wants.
“Shut up and kiss me,” Lilly fell against him and he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her.
This time the kiss wasn’t chaste or childlike. There was passion and need and it was reciprocated.
Lilly gasped as their lips crushed together and Peter’s tongue slid into her mouth. She curled up in his embrace and basked in the moment; clinging to him, feeling his hard masculine body pressed against hers, smelling his manliness, feeling his manhood pressing against her belly.
It was heaven. Better than anything she had dreamed. She slid her tongue into Peter’s mouth and was delighted by the experience. His mouth was warm and moist and tasted of scotch and faintly of cigarettes. She felt very feminine and sexy but also very secure in Peter’s embrace. They shared secrets and soon they would share her bed.
Lilly became acutely aware of herself. She could smell her perfume, taste her lipstick, feel the soft caress of her hair on the nape of her neck, the tight waistband of her skirt around her waist and the hem tickling her thighs, the sensual caress of her nylon stockings on her freshly shaved legs, the slippery satin of her knickers caressing her buttocks. This self-awareness was reinforced by Peter’s actions. His hands were everywhere, scrunching her buttocks, stroking her thighs, caressing her face. He was both loving and needy.
Lilly could feel her cock tenting her knickers, the slinky fabric rubbing on the sensitive head. She was worried that she might orgasm involuntarily.
Peter had to admit that he had been apprehensive. It was one thing to get aroused watching crossdresser porn, it was another to be in Lilly’s presence and feel attracted to her, but it was a leap of audaciousness to actually take her in his arms and kiss her.
There was a nagging doubt that he would be repelled; that when he embraced her and felt her body against his and put his lips on hers, the illusion would dissipate and he would think of Lilly as a man in a skirt.
He needn't have worried.
Lilly felt wonderful. She tasted delightful. She smelled lovely. She was as captivating and luscious as he imagined she would be. There was no sense of doubt or renitence or any perception that she was anything other than a woman. A special, unique woman who was exotically different to any other woman he had ever desired.
Peter’s hand slid down the small of her back and he cupped her pert buttocks, his fingers slid under her skirt and caressed Lilly’s stocking-clad thigh and drifted languidly across her knickers, his middle finger pressed into the crease of her bottom and then he removed his hand and stroked her cheek while he kissed her, expressing both desire and tenderness.
Locked together they swayed the last few steps towards the bed. Lilly felt the mattress press against the back of her legs and realised that they were at the point of no return and then Peter lowered her onto the bed, never breaking the kiss.
He lay on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows and knees so as not to crush her delicate frame. Lilly clasped her hands together behind his neck and returned the kiss with even greater passion. She didn’t flinch when Peter’s fingers once again slipped under her skirt and toyed with her garters and stroked her thighs. When they drifted across the front of her knickers she baulked momentarily, terrified the illusion of her womanhood would be interpreted as deception.
She needn’t have worried. One of Peter’s fingers lightly brushed her cock as he fingered the slippery fabric of her knickers. She reached for him, taking her first precarious step towards lasciviousness. She struggled to unbuckle his belt and pull down his fly. She was nervous and impulsive, eager to feel his manhood.
She’d always imagined this moment but never believed that it would manifest itself because of her self-imposed exile and now that the moment was finally on her she intended to relish it.
Lilly found his phallus engorged and pulsing with vitality. She sensed Peter’s eagerness. He gasped when her fingers caressed his cock and he kissed her passionately when her fingers fondled his bloated rod. She tentatively explored the engorged flesh. She delighted in the feel of the silky smooth translucent flesh encasing his shaft, the little blue veins prominent and pulsing, the dorsal artery throbbed as Peter’s penis became fully engorged.
Lilly smiled to herself as Peter kissed her vigorously, knowing that she was the cause of his tumescence. Her fingertips explored the spongy glans and tickled the sensitive sinew of his fraenulum and became slick with pre-seminal fluid as he began to leak copious amounts of the precious fluid from the eye of his cock.
Peter was over-stimulated. This beautiful transvestite lay under him, returning his kisses, toying with his penis, her breathing hard and ragged. He could feel her engorged penis through her knickers as he played with her stocking tops and fingered her gluteal cleft.
He’d managed to kick off his shoes and he was awkwardly trying to wrench his trousers and underpants down his legs. Lilly stopped ministering to his penis long enough to assist him. She helped him pull his shirt over his head and her hand searched for him as soon as he was unencumbered by his trousers and shirt.
Lilly cupped Peter’s scrotum softly and ran her manicured fingernails along his wrinkled sac, making him shudder. His lips returned to hers and his tongue darted into her mouth and she eagerly moved her hand back to his engorged manhood and took up where she had left off. His penis was still fully tumescent and she began to stroke it, her hand and wrist slick with pre-ejaculate. Her own penis was throbbing, aching for release and although Peter seemed reluctant to grasp it, his hand brushed against it intermittently as he played with her legs and her knickers.
Peter was participating in the most exciting sexual encounter that he had ever experienced and he’d had many. He worried that Lilly might bring him off in her hand if she kept doing what she was doing and he desperately wanted to fuck her. He moved her hand away from his groin and pried open her legs, hiking her skirt up.
Lilly suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable. She sensed Peter’s need but now the reality of what he wanted overshadowed the unprecedented sexual experience she had craved. Lilly had wondered what it would be like to have a real man make love to her when she watched her pornography and worked the vibrating sex toy in and out of her anus. Now that is was eminent she was tremulous. Part of her wanted Peter to ravish her and another part of her wanted him to just continue what they were doing.
Things were moving too fast.
As it turned out the choice was not hers to make. Peter made the decision for her.
He snatched the KY Jelly off the nightstand and squeezed the cool viscous lubricant onto his fingers.
“No. Wait!” Lilly uttered alarmingly as Peter smeared the lubricous lotion between her buttocks.
A finger slid inside her anus and a jolt of pure delight diverged from her sphincter and lit up her pleasure centres. Peter slathered his phallus with the remaining balm and eased aside the gusset of her knickers and nestled his glans in her puckered bud.
Lilly looked up at him, pleading silently with him, alarm and trepidation on her face.
Peter froze.
He realised that he was being selfish and rapine. It dawned on him that Lilly was a virgin and he was forcing her to take a step beyond what she had consented to.
“I’m sorry. I just…” Peter whispered his voice filled with shame and regret.
Lilly looked up at him. Her lipstick smeared around her mouth, her eyes filled with trepidation. She was beautiful and vulnerable.
“I went too far. I should have…” Peter didn’t get to finish his sentence.
Lilly kissed him and locked her legs around his waist and raised her buttocks off the bed and slowly impaled herself on his cock.
Peter’s cock was nothing like any of her sex toys. It was turgid yet resilient. It was alive and responsive and she could feel it throb and pulse as her sphincter opened to accept his flesh. Sparklets of intense pleasure radiated from her bottom and Lilly shivered with delight as Peter’s glans slid past her puckered ring into the tight channel of her anus.
She locked her ankles together behind his back and drove herself upwards until the full girth of Peter’s manhood was inside her, kissing him passionately as she did so.
Peter gasped into her mouth as he felt his cock slowly slide into Lilly’s back passage. It felt better than any vagina he had ever penetrated. Her sphincter was tight and clung to his shaft; her anus caressed his cock like a velvet glove. Her silky stockings rubbed on his sensitive flesh, her lips were soft and yielding, her tongue fluttered in his mouth.
Peter could feel Lilly’s cock pressing against his belly through her silky knickers. It didn’t repulse him one little bit. If anything it spurred him on, knowing that she was enjoying the encounter as much as he was.
He cupped her buttocks and began to slowly fuck her, terrified that he would prematurely ejaculate. Lilly raked her fingers down his back and moaned like a slattern as Peter’s turgid manhood began to slide in and out of her, his glans pressing on her prostate, the thick shaft stretching her sphincter as it clung to his steely weapon.
Lilly was in sensory overload, feeling Peter’s lips on hers, his tongue exploring her mouth, his body pressed needily against hers, his fingers gouging her buttocks through her knickers, her legs wrapped around his torso and her cock pressed against his belly.
A momentous orgasm blossomed, starting in her prostate, spreading along her anus to her sphincter, permeating into her engorged penis trapped in the silky prison of her knickers pressing on Peter’s hard belly.
She flooded her knickers and began to shake. She gyrated her buttocks, forcing every millimetre of Peter’s cock inside her as she climaxed. She moaned and whimpered like a wounded puppy as Peter’s cock erupted inside her.
Peter pulled her close to him and drove his cock all the way inside Lilly’s clenching anus as he ejaculated, planting his seed deep in her bowel. He could feel her anus contract around his flesh, milking him of his essence, her stockinged legs whispering against his flanks, her nails raking his back, her heels goading him on, her mouth sucking the substance of his consciousness. He felt the orgasm in his conscious as much as he felt it in his flesh.
This was something special. Lilly was giving herself to him, offering him her very substance. Their lust was unbridled.
They clung to each other, kissing, and pawing, mauling, holding on to each other as if their very survival depended on it. Lilly had never dreamed that sex with a man would feel like this and Peter had never experienced anything like it.
Peter expressed every scintilla of his spend inside Lilly’s clutching void and Lilly disgorged her essence into her knickers as waves of illicit pleasure radiated from her anus.
When they had both exhausted themselves they lay in each other’s arms kissing each other tenderly. Peter’s cock slowly deflated and Lilly’s sphincter reluctantly expelled it with an almost audible plop. A rivulet of semen dribbled from her distended anus, ran down her thighs and soaked into her stockings.
Neither of them cared. They had never felt so content and fulfilled.
Eventually the cool night air forced them under the covers. Peter removed his clothing while Lilly went to the bathroom to clean up the semen. She came back to the bedroom and changed her knickers and stockings and slipped into her négligée. She brought the bottle of scotch and their glasses up from the living room along with her cigarettes but they were ignored as they rolled under the covers and ignited their passions once again.
“I wonder what that tastes like?” Lilly chuckled cheekily as she playfully waggled Peter’s hard cock.
She decided to find out and her head disappeared under the coverlet.
To be continued
Surrender - Chapter 2
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Chapter Two – Are We Lovers Now?
Lilly Millington’s life changed completely after she met Peter Simpson and she settled into the unique duality of it.
She lived two lives, although that is not quite correct. In her psyche she was always Lilly but physically she alternated between Lester Millington and Lilly Millington. At work during the week, when visiting family or when undertaking the necessary errands that required it, Lilly presented as Lester. At all other times she presented herself in the female perspicacity.
Lilly had come to think of Lester as a regrettable necessity. Without him she would be unable to survive in a harsh world where women like her were ridiculed, scorned, lampooned or worse. If Lilly turned up to work instead of Lester she would be sacked on the spot. If Lilly attended a family gathering, infrequently as they were, her family would disown her and her father would likely have a heart attack. So she sent Lester.
So Lilly vacillated between the physical personas of Lester and Lilly but mentally she was always Lilly.
Peter on the other hand consorted only with Lilly. By mutual agreement Lester was never seen or spoken of in Peter’s presence. Even when Peter and Lilly were discussing undertakings that could only be accomplished by Lester, his name was never mentioned, it was always Lilly or she, her, hers, herself, even when discussing Lester’s affairs.
This was reflected in the contents of Lilly’s wardrobe and dresser. Whereas before the burglary the majority of the space had been allocated to Lester’s clothing, the stockpile of male clothing had dwindled to only what was necessary whilst Lilly’s wardrobe had expanded exponentially.
Peter pampered Lilly and bought her clothes, jewellery and shoes and they shared the financial responsibilities and in return she showered him with devotion and adoration. She also managed the money he made from his illegal activities. Neither of them was stupid and they realised that they would never be able to live together as a couple but when they were together they lived in a fantasy world where anything was possible.
The only fly in the ointment was that Peter was that had become possessive. She adored him of course and she had Peter to thank for freeing her from the prison that was her home but she wouldn’t mind expanding her horizons. Their world revolved around Lilly’s house and the Black Sheep. They never went anywhere else and Peter became incensed if she spoke to anyone other than their own little group of friends at the pub.
Wednesday was ‘tights night’. Tights night had come about because Lilly like to dress to please Peter and he had penchant for both stockings and tights. Lilly thought that stockings were sexier and facilitated intercourse easier. When Peter fucked Lilly when she was wearing tights she was not allowed to take them off or even lower them. Peter loved the feel of sheer nylon encasing Lilly’s legs all the way up her thighs and enveloping her buttocks so he simply poked a cock-sized hole in her tights and fucked her through it, which Lilly loved by the way, but it meant the tights were effectively ruined.
So by mutual agreement, when Peter came around for sex, Lilly wore stockings except on Wednesday which became ‘tights’ night’.
On Wednesday Peter found the front door unlocked and knew that Lilly would be waiting for him upstairs. He was hot for her, his cock pressing against his trousers as he dropped the flowers and chocolates that he had bought her on the hallstand before he mounted the stairs.
Lilly was lying on the bed wearing a pair of ten-denier tan Pretty Polly sheer-to-the-waist tights, white four-inch high heels and nothing else. She was already erect, her cock staining against the nylon. Peter entered the bedroom and undressed, never taking his eyes off her. She was wearing her blonde bouffant wig and heavy makeup, her lips painted bright red, her eye makeup dark and slutty.
Peter fell on her, pressing his hard cock against hers, relishing the feel of the diaphanous nylon on his steely rod, feeling Lilly’s cock pressing against his through the sheer nylon. He kissed her passionately and began to rut, rubbing his cock on hers.
Lilly dutifully wrapped her limbs around his big body, shimmying her legs so that her gossamer-clad gams caressed his flanks, feeling Peter’s cock leaking pre-seminal fluid into her nylons, her own cock slick with precum.
Peter’s kisses became frenetic as he humped away at her body, driving her into the mattress, propelling her into a paroxysm of lust-fuelled bliss. She moaned like a slattern as her cock juddered and expressed her seed into her nylons. Her sperm comingled with Peter’s warm viscous milt as he orgasmed right along with her. He clutched at her, holding Lilly tight against him, feeling her smooth, silky legs scissoring against his body as he pounded her into the bed, their cocks pressed together through the gauzy layer of nylon slick with spunk.
They clung to each other as they climaxed, extracting every scintilla of pleasure from each other. It was pure lust, there was no tenderness or soft caresses, they sucked at each other’s mouths, their spit mingling and tongues lashing as they humped, thrusted and ground against each other, each of them seeking the pinnacle of lechery.
Peter lay panting on top of Lilly, his full weight pressing her slight frame into the covers. He was crushing her and she pushed against him until he rolled off her. The Pretty Polly tights were semen drenched and laddered. When they had both regained their composure they got out of bed.
Lilly changed her tights and put on knickers and a whispy negligee while Peter put on a robe and went downstairs and put the flowers he had brought her in a vase. He opened the chocolates and poured two large glasses of gin and tonic and brought them back up to her bedroom where they drank, smoked and snuggled in Lilly’s bed while watching the small television on the lowboy facing the bed. They were watching an episode of The Sweeny when Lilly suddenly became serious during an ad break.
Lester Millington was a mousy, nondescript little man who beavered away in a small office in a branch of The Bank of Manchester where he managed the bank’s business and investment accounts. He worked with little supervision. So long as his accounts made a profit for the bank nobody really cared about the customers he solicited including how they made their money.
“We should diversify. You’ve told me you know some of the faces around Manchester, you know, fences and criminal associates,” Lilly ran her fingers through the wiry hairs on Peter’s manly chest.
“What do you mean diversify, kitten? You manage my money for me. You know how I make it,” Peter reached across Lilly to get his cigarettes, pausing briefly to kiss her affectionately on the nose.
“Burglary is small time and risky Peter. The Old Bill knows your MO and you're likely to get nicked one day and it’s not like I can visit you in prison is it?” Lilly tousled his hair and kissed his cheek.
“I’m sure that some of the villains you associate with have the same problems you once had,” Lilly speculated.
“What are you proposing, that I just walk up to them and tell them to hand over their lolly and I’ll look after it? They’d find me floating face down in the Bridgewater Canal,” Peter chuckled, not taking Lilly seriously.
“I can set up investment accounts for them the same as I did for you. The accounts would be untraceable and of course I, that is we, would take a small commission,” Lilly was a little annoyed that Peter wasn’t taking her seriously.
“Let me think about it Lilly,” Peter popped a Cadbury’s Hazelnut Swirl into his mouth and went back to watching The Sweeny.
*****
Friday was their night out. Lilly had made her debut at the Black Sheep public house six months ago, not long after she and Peter became lovers. She’d told Peter that she never went out presenting as Lilly because she was too scared to but Peter had convinced that she would be safe with him. He had a connection in the Greater Manchester Police, one Detective Constable Steve Vogel, who he could call anytime he got into a scrape.
In Peter’s company Lilly felt safe enough to go out into the world. It was as safe as it was ever going to be. Peter picked her up in his Ford Cortina then they drove to Richmond Street and spent the evening in the Black Sheep and came home for sex. Nothing could be safer. No squalid coupling down on the canal towpath like some of the other trannies who risked being collared by the police.
Lilly was dressed in a black leather miniskirt, leopard print silk blouse, a black velvet bolero jacket, glossy fleshtoned tights and black high heels. Because she was going out, her brassiere’s C-cups were enhanced with silicone breastforms. Her figure was stunning, her legs were long, her makeup was perfect and she caught a lot of attention from the male admirers and the other trannies.
During the drive to the pub she had to keep Peter’s hand off her legs.
“If you ruin these sheers Peter I’m going to get very cross. You can poke a hole in them when we get back home,” Lilly berated him but Peter just chuckled and patted her knee.
“Not sure I can wait to get you home kitten, you look a treat,” Peter growled, his voice filled with lust.
Peter had taken to calling Lilly kitten and she loved that he had a pet name for her. It was playful but intimate.
Peter parked close to the Black Sheep and he put his arm around her waist during the short walk. Lilly no longer perched herself in the corner at the back of the bar. Wendy, Brittany and Crystal had saved them seats in a booth. Lilly had finally become friends with the girls she had once admired from afar and they got along famously and the girls liked Peter. He was funny, flirtatious and generous, insisting on buying every second round.
Richard was sitting beside Crystal as usual but Wendy and Brittany were sitting alone, discussing which of the admirers who were openly ogling them they would grace with their company. The girls air-kissed, careful not to spoil their makeup but Peter got a kiss on the side of the mouth from each of them and he shook hands with Richard. Richard kissed Lilly on the cheek and squeezed her bottom cheekily.
“Now, now, Richard, I've warned you before about feeling up my girlfriend,” Peter smacked Richard’s hand away from Lilly’s perky bottom.
“It doesn’t matter where you get your appetite so long as you eat at home. Isn’t that right pet,” Richard winked at Crystal who gave him an irritated shake of her head.
The group knew each other well and the playful banter would continue throughout the night until they each went their separate ways. Lilly and Peter had been invited into their little club the first night that Peter had taken Lilly to the Black Sheep and they had clicked. To say they knew each other well was a slight exaggeration. They knew each other within the confines of the Black Sheep. They knew each other’s first names and only what they cared to share about their personal circumstances, which was little.
Crystal admitted to being married and having a family and Richard admitted to being married and that he worked as a used car salesman. Peter had told them that he was minicab driver and on the rare evenings when Wendy or Brittany didn’t pull, he would drop them home on the way back to Lilly’s house.
They all lived double lives and nobody wanted the reality of their mundane existences outside the Black Sheep to interfere with their Friday evening proclivities. They purchased bingo cards and drank and smoked while they played bingo and laughed at the antics of the two drag queens who called the numbers. It was a pleasant evening and Wendy and Brittany picked out a couple of likely lads who they would approach during the sing-along with a view to visit the canal towpath at the end of the evening.
All was going swimmingly until Peter noticed a man sitting by himself at the bar. He was a tall, slim man with longish, lank, wheaty-blonde hair that hung down to the turned up collar of his brown leather jacket. He was wearing tight stonewashed jeans, a white cotton shirt and polished brown ankle-boots. Peter recognised him immediately even though he had his back to them. The man was chatting up the barmaid while she poured him a pint of Boddingtons.
The man turned around, lifted his pint and took a sip then his steely blue eyes drilled into Peter’s. It was Detective Constable Steve Vogel.
“Excuse me kitten,” Peter squeezed Lilly’s knee and extricated himself from the booth.
Lilly was singing along with others to the Lambeth Waltz, following the bouncing ball on the screen while the queer little pianist banged the keys and the drag queens drunkenly encouraged the crowd to sing along. Peter squeezed through the crowd and made his way to the bar where it was quieter.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Peter smiled at Steve and offered him a cigarette.
“Didn’t think this was your sort of place,” Steve took the proffered ciggy and lit up.
“I dropped off my last fare for the night right outside and decided to come in for a pint and a laugh,” Peter lied.
“Then why aren’t you back at your fare’s gaff robbing him blind?” Steve smirked.
“I’ve done him before. Remember what you told me? You never knock over the same place twice and you spread your crimes far and wide around the manor,” Peter winked at Steve.
“This place is full queers and trannies,” Steve sniffed.
“Which makes me wonder why you're here,” Peter raised a brow.
“The Bolton brothers are meeting their firm in the snug. They think meeting here will throw us off their scent. I’m just keeping an eye on them for now, seeing what they're up to,” Steve sniffed again and took another pull on his pint.
“The Bolton’s are into drugs; not my thing,” Peter commented.
Peter glanced over Steve’s shoulder and saw that Lilly was approaching him, smiling sweetly. He gave her a stern look and shook his head but it was too late, Steve had turned around and saw her.
“Who’s this little lady Peter?” Steve looked amused.
Lilly was shocked and she saw the look of despair on Peter’s face but it was too late to back away. Instead she sidled up to Peter and put her arm around him.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Lilly smiled at Steve but inside she was terrified.
“Lilly, this is Detective Constable Steve Vogel,” Peter feigned confidence.
Lilly just smiled at Steve and tried her best to use Peter’s bulk to conceal her body. She peeked over his shoulder at Steve.
“Christ Peter, you're batting above your average. Pleased to meet you Lilly,” Steve smiled back at her.
Lilly felt that she could see the wheels turning in Steve’s brain. Steve had the look of bemused consternation that someone had when they thought they knew someone but weren’t sure.
Then a look of recognition passed over Steve’s face.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Peter! Come with me,” Steve barked.
He gripped Peter by his upper arm and led him through the crowd outside to the pavement.
“It’s that tranny from the gaff you burgled on Smith Street. I told you to leave that alone. Are you blackmailing her?” Steve growled, flinging his cigarette butt into the gutter.
“No! No! No! It’s not like that. Well I intended to blackmail her but then something else came up,” Peter stammered.
“Yeah, your fucking dick,” Steve huffed.
“We have a business arrangement,” Lilly stated confidently.
Neither Steve nor Peter had heard the click-clack of her high heels over the din from the pub as she approached them.
“A business arrangement? You’re not brassing her out are you Peter?” Steve said angrily.
“Hey! I’m not a fucking brass! I’m an investment accountant at the First Bank of Manchester, thank you very much,” Lilly got into Steve’s face, which was funny because she only came up to his shoulders even in her high heels.
“What the fuck?” Steve was confused.
“This isn’t the time or place to discuss this. Come back to my place when the pub shuts and I’ll explain,” Lilly couldn’t believe she was being so brazen.
Steve and Peter both stared at her open-mouthed, stunned by Lilly’s audacity.
*****
The ride back to Smith Street in Peter’s Cortina was conducted in stony silence. Peter and Lilly were having their first tiff.
“I told you that I would think about it,” Peter finally huffed as he parked outside Lilly's house.
“And I said we should diversify,” Lilly snapped back.
The headlights of Steve Vogel’s Ford Escort illuminated the interior of Peter’s car as he pulled up behind them. He came over to the passenger door and found Peter and Lilly bickering.
“Come on you two. I haven’t got all night, some of us have to work tomorrow,” Steve opened Lilly’s door for her and was rewarded with the view of an expanse of nylon-clad thigh and a glimpse of red satin knicker as she alighted.
For a second Steve could see why Peter was taken with Lilly. She was virtually unclockable, very pretty and extremely sexy.
Peter locked his car and followed them inside. Lilly ignited the gas fire and poured them all double whiskies. Peter and Steve sat on the couch smoking, not saying much. Steve was impatient to hear what Lilly had to say and Peter was still sulking. Lilly snatched up Peter’s Consulates and Steve leaned over to light it for her, sneaking another peek up her skirt as he did so.
“As I said to you down at the pub, I’m an investment accountant manager at the First Bank of Manchester,” Lilly wasted no time with formalities.
“I’ve set up an investment account for Peter using the pseudonym Lilly Millington which I have full access to. Peter does his jobs, fences his ill-gotten gains for cash and I launder the money through the investment account,” Lilly explained.
“Seems fair. A good way to hide your illicit income from the authorities,” Steve wasn’t that impressed.
Anybody could do what Lilly had done if they had the nous.
“But there is more. We’re making more out of the trading account than Peter is making robbing houses around the manor,” Lilly took a sip of scotch allowing Steve to interrupt.
“How’s that? Those accounts make decent interest but they are long term and take years to pay off. It’s a good way to hide money but I don’t see it as a good way to make money in the short term,” Steve sniffed.
“That would be the case if the person managing the First Bank of Manchester business and investment accounts wasn’t a crook. I think some of Peter’s skulduggery has rubbed off on me,” Lilly smiled at both men.
“I think he’s rubbing more than his skulduggery against you,” Steve quipped and Peter blushed.
“Anyway, what I’ve done is set up a scheme so that one percent of the interest dividends paid to certain trading accounts is secretly deposited into Lilly’s investment account,” Lilly explained.
“How do you get away with that?” Steve was suddenly interested.
“I’m pretty much unsupervised and so long as the accounts I manage turn a profit for the investor and the bank, so no one is likely to check on the accounts in detail. The account holders have no idea how much their accounts actually earn because interest rates fluctuate. So long as their balances keep growing the account holders assume that everything is kosher,” Lilly smiled smugly.
“Ok, so why are you telling me all this?” Steve looked bemused.
“I told you to let it be Lilly,” Peter growled but Lilly held up her hand to him.
“The scheme only works because Peter is a crook looking to hide his ill-gotten gains. He came up the idea to hide his money from the taxman and the Old Bill but I came up with the idea to embezzle a little on the side,” Lilly grinned.
“So who else has a lot of lolly they would like to hide from the authorities and their rivals? Who else has the problem of trying to hide undeclared income derived from illegal activities?” Lilly asked, still grinning.
“Villains,” Steve chuckled.
“Exactly! Villains,” Lilly had a smug I-told-you-so look on her face.
“What if I was to offer the same service to certain criminals? I would create trading accounts for them under pseudonyms. The villains would have immediate access to those accounts whenever they wanted to make withdrawals but I would make the deposits on their behalf,” Lilly smiled.
“But of course this service would require a fee. I would take a percentage of the money they deposited and put said money in Lilly Millington’s account,” Lilly explained.
“Sounds like a great scam but why do you need me?” Steve asked.
“Because, and don’t take this the wrong way darling,” Lilly squeezed Peter’s knee.
“Because Peter only knows the villains on the lower lever level of the layer cake. Sure there are burglars, fences and other crooks out there who would benefit from my services but you know the crooks who make the real money,” Lilly finally got to the point.
“You would offer my unique product to the upper echelon, shall we say the criminal elite, and you would vouch for us. You, Peter and I would split the proceeds,” Lilly grinned.
“What makes you think that I have dealings with the criminal elite as you call them, other than wanting to feel their collar?” Steve baulked.
“Oh come on Steve. You’re taking a stipend from Peter so you’re obviously taking protection money from other crooks. Your position in the Serious Crime Division means that you rub up against Manchester’s serious criminal element and your disposition, shall we say, to be selective about whom you nick and who you collaborate with, places you in the perfect position,” Lilly ventured.
“This is bollocks!” Steve growled and got to his feet.
“Let me tell you something Peter. You and your little Molly here need to wind in your necks otherwise you’ll find yourself inside Strangeways prison,” Steve pointed a finger at Peter.
Steve stormed out of the room and Peter and Lilly heard the front door slam shut.
Outside Lilly’s house Steve climbed into his Ford Escort. He took a deep breath and paused to think. In actual fact Lilly’s idea was not that stupid but he would have to think long and hard about it and Peter was obviously not enamoured with it. He also felt uncomfortable around Lilly. He usually held her kind in contempt but there was something about Lilly, and it was not just how pretty, sexy and feminine she was. She was articulate and intelligent.
“Fucked if I know?” Steve shook his head, started the motor and drove away but he couldn’t get the image of Lilly out of his mind.
*****
“Well that went well,” Lilly huffed.
“I fucking told you so,” Peter sighed.
“Now get upstairs and out of those tights and put on those stockings I bought you. I think you need a good seeing to young lady,” Peter stood up and stretched.
A good shagging wouldn’t soothe Lilly’s disappointment at having her scheme rejected by Steve Vogel but it would take her mind off it so Lilly did as she was told. She was straightening the seams of her stockings when Peter barged stiffly though the bedroom door and slammed it behind him.
“I told you to leave it alone,” he said gruffly as he approached Lilly.
They were having their first fight and Lilly didn’t like seeing this side of Peter. He wouldn’t let it go. She’d made what she thought was a prudential business proposition to Steve and he’d turned her down. There was no need for Peter to keep harping on about it.
“Ok babe, just let it go,” Lilly was thinking that she might not want that good shagging after all.
She wanted Peter to hold her in his arms and kiss her softly, to see the adoration his eyes, to gently flick her fringe out of eyes with his fingertips, to call her kitten. But Peter seemed to be in a foul mood.
“I’ll decide what gets let go. Now get down on your knees and do something useful with that mouth,” Peter strode across the room and put his hands on Lilly’s shoulders.
“Don’t!” she hissed as Peter tried to push her down on her knees.
She struggled with him but she was no match for Peter’s bulk and strength. He spun her around and pushed her down on the bed. He rolled Lilly onto her stomach, pushing her down into the mattress.
“Stop it!” she screamed as she struggled to get up, kicking out with her heels, hoping to hit him somewhere that would cause enough pain so that Peter would let her go.
Peter grabbed both her hands in one of his, squeezing them together and pushing them up her back until it hurt. Lilly wriggled and kicked out, but Peter straddled her so that she couldn’t strike him with her heels.
He pulled the gusset of her knickers aside and slid a finger into her tight anus, then another and Lilly thanked the heavens that she was lubricated in anticipation of sex. Peter slid his fingers in and out of Lilly’s tight anus and she continued to struggle.
“Stop that you wanker!” Lilly cried out.
Peter carried on doing what he was doing and his fingers found Lilly’s prostate two inches inside her rectum and he pointed his fingertips toward her navel and began to massage it. Lilly groaned as waves of illicit pleasure radiated from her perineum, her sphincter lit up too and added to the melange of delight spreading outward from her anus. Despite the pleasure she didn’t want to be treated this way and she kept wriggling and kicking out.
“Stop it you prick!” Lilly continued to struggle.
“Don’t” she heard Peter unzip his trousers.
Peter whipped his fingers out of her anus and slipped his engorged phallus inside her. Lilly tried to tighten her sphincter to expel him but Peter pressed harder, forcing more of himself inside Lilly’s tight hole, opening her up. He delighted in the sensation of her anus clenching around his cock as she tried to squeeze him out. Her nylon-sheathed legs jerking and scissoring as she lashed out, rubbed against his flesh and he relished the feel of her slinky tights. Her buttocks quivered as she tussled, his groin pressed into the soft yielding pillows.
Peter pulled Lilly to her knees. He gripped her thighs, his fingers digging into her flesh as he fucked her hard and fast, bringing her to the edge despite her protests. Lilly’s body betrayed her and she moaned a deep guttural sound as her penis snapped to full rigidity and pressed against her knickers, pre-ejaculate soaking the front of the gauzy garment. Peter slammed himself into her, forcing her to enjoy what he was doing to her despite her resistance and protests at the pain she felt where he had gripped her wrists and clenched her thighs.
She felt his release, his semen like burning lava deep in her bowel. It triggered her own climax and she shuddered uncontrollably as she ejaculated, drenching her knickers. Her anus spasmed so hard that it almost hurt Peter to be inside her, but he held onto her shoulders and collapsed on top of her as the last of issue filled her quivering hole. Lilly whimpered and lay under him, unable and unwilling to fight any longer. She felt Peter’s cock undulate as the last of his issue dribbled from it, her anus stretched and aching in a satisfyingly way that betrayed her needs.
Peter rolled off Lilly and pulled her to him and smothered her with kisses as his spend dribbled from her sphincter and stained her stocking tops. Her knickers were soaked but Peter pressed his semi-hard phallus against her groin as he held her close and kissed her passionately, apologising for being so rough.
Lilly said nothing. She was still stunned. Peter had never been so rough with her before. Peter had almost raped her, but hadn't she liked it? She pondered this quandary as she fell asleep in his warm embrace.
*****
The first night that Peter stayed over had presented Lilly with a dilemma. She didn’t want Peter to see her presenting as Lester so the alternative was sleeping in her makeup and wearing her pink rayon babydoll pyjamas and tights to bed but she couldn’t sleep in a wig because that would be impractical.
Lester’s hair was collar length, but it was cut straight and unstyled. The First Bank of Manchester’s dress code allowed male employees to wear their hair below the collar provided it was kept neat. That first night Lilly managed to do the best she could and kept the lighting low so she was passable.
The following day Lester had gone to a unisex hair stylist and had his tawny brown hair cut into a blunt-cut feathered bob and had some blonde highlights added. It looked very modern and suited his small stature. At home Lilly experimented with styling mousse and a teasing brush and was able to perfect a very feminine alternative that framed her face beautifully.
Lilly was now able to present Lester to the outside world as a small-framed, handsome man in a suit, with a smart modern hairstyle and at home Lilly could leave off her wig and still look very feminine. She still wore a wig when she went out and when she wanted to look a particular way but during the day when Peter wasn’t there it more practical to wear her natural hair.
Peter worked every weekday and most Saturdays for Caroline’s Cabs. On Fridays and Saturdays minicab fares were lucrative. Those people without their own cars used minicabs to get around and in the evening people who owned cars wanted to go out on the town without the encumbrance of having to park their car or get pulled over for drunk driving.
Peter usually committed one or two burglaries on Saturday night, robbing his unsuspecting passengers’ houses while they enjoyed their evening out.
Lilly arose late on Saturday morning to an empty house. She took care of her ablutions, put on some light makeup, styled her natural hair and dressed to do the housework. She wore a burgundy nylon full-slip under a black satin V-neck housecoat. She wore hosiery of course because she felt undressed without it but she was wearing a pair of cheap Tesco tan tights. She had ruined too many expensive nylons snagging them whilst conducting housework.
She wore a pair of plain black nylon knickers over them. Lilly called them her ‘granny-knickers’ because they were high-waisted and full cut, designed to be comfortable not fashionable. The ensemble was complete with fluffy pink kitten-heel slippers for practicality whilst retaining a sense of style.
So it was that Detective Constable Steve Vogel found Lilly dressed this way when she answered the door at eleven o’clock.
“Hello Detective Vogel, please come inside,” Lilly was a little self-conscious about being seen in her housecoat but curious as to why Steve was here.
Steve seemed a little nervous and was fidgeting so Lilly took him into the lounge room and seated him on the sofa. She had never been alone with another man before except Peter and she was a little self-conscious, especially given the way she was dressed. She closed the housecoat around her anxiously.
“Sorry about the mess, I was doing my housework. Tea?” she offered.
“Yes, tea please. Us English think that tea is the answer to everything,” Steve quipped nervously.
He still seemed uptight and agitated which surprised Lilly because he had always seemed so self-confident and in charge.
“I remember how you take it, white and two, right?” Steve’s eyes followed Lilly into the kitchenette.
Of course Lilly knew how he took his tea. Lester had made him a cup when he came to investigate the burglary. Steve shook his head; he didn’t want to think about Lester. He only thought of the occupant of this house as Lilly now. He watched her fill the kettle and put it on the hob and then she turned around and Steve averted his eyes. He didn’t want to her know that he had been watching.
“I’ll just put this away,” Lilly returned to the lounge and bent over to retract the cord into the vacuum cleaner so she could pack it up.
The satin housecoat and nylon slip clung to her shapely buttocks as she bent over and Steve admired the view. He could just make out the crevice between her buttocks as the fabric clung to her knickers. The housecoat rode up a little and he had an unobstructed view of her long, shapely legs enswathed in her tan tights. His cock began to thicken.
His gaze followed her to the closet where she put away the vacuum. She turned to him and smiled apologetically and suddenly Steve realised why Peter had become infatuated with her. Even dressed as she was without one of her stylish, flamboyant wigs she looked beautiful, her pretty face framed by her blunt-cut feathered bob. She went back into the kitchenette and fussed around making tea which she brought back to the lounge on a tea tray.
Lilly sat beside him on the edge of the sofa so she could pour and Steve admired her long, elegant fingers, her manicured fingernails painted bright red, the same shade as her lipstick. He could smell her perfume: Dior Poison, everything about her exuded femininity and sensuality. Steve took the proffered cup of tea and Lilly picked up her cup and settled back into the couch and crossed her legs. Her housecoat opened a little as she made herself comfortable the hem of her burgundy slip rode up her thighs. Steve swallowed and took another sip of tea.
“What brings you here?” Lilly asked.
She sensed the tension in the room and Steve’s anxiousness. She thought that he was probably uncomfortable and maybe a little repulsed by being so close to a transvestite. Steve had accused her of being a brass, which she knew meant prostitute, outside the Black Sheep pub last night and stormed out when she had made her business proposal. She suspected that he was here to warn her off, possibly even to tell her to break up with Peter Simpson.
She scratched around in the drawer under the coffee table and found her Consulates and put one in her mouth. Before she could retrieve the matches Steve offered her his lighter and she leaned into him so could light her cigarette. This was the closest Steve had ever been to her and he was captivated by her. When she settled back into the lounge her slip rode up a little higher and Steve caught a glimpse of knicker before Lilly prudently closed her housecoat.
“I’ve been thinking more about what you said last night about investing money in the First Bank of Manchester under a false identity. It would certainly keep my money safe and the tax wouldn’t know it’s mine and more importantly neither would the Greater Manchester constabulary should they find a need to investigate me,” Steve finally got to the point.
“I’ve thought about it too and now I’m not so sure it would be a good idea. Peter really went off at me last night. He err, he even got a little violent. Besides you called me a Molly and accused me of being a brass. For this to work we would have to trust each other,” Lilly flicked ash into the ashtray.
“Look I’m sorry about what I said. I’m truly sorry. In this job I have come across your type before and I have found them to be untrustworthy. They live a lie and hide what they do from their wives,” Steve countered.
Lilly was enraged and Steve saw the storm clouds gathering in her eyes and he held up his hand.
“That didn’t come out right. I know that you not one of the Canal Street Mollies and I know that you live your life as Lilly and that you only hide who you really are because you have no choice. I don’t see you as a grubby little man playing dressup. I see you as a beautiful and alluring lady who is cursed by society’s prejudices and ignorance. I was rude to you last night and the last thing I want to do is insult you. Don’t you see that I find you very attractive and the epitome of femininity and grace,” Steve swallowed nervously.
You could have knocked Lilly over with a feather. This was the last thing she expected. Peter often complimented her and she appreciated it but Steve’s flattery was almost overwhelming. That is if he was genuine and not lying to her just so he could get into her good graces to use her financial acumen to his advantage.
“Well that is quite the turnaround Steve,” Lilly drew nervously on her cigarette.
“Thanks for the compliments but tell me exactly what you had in mind,” Lilly’s interest was piqued.
“Ok, it’s no secret to you that I work both sides of the law. I take bribes and exhort money from certain people involved in criminal activities. I keep the proceeds in a safe in my lockup. My concerns are these: if certain villains were to find out where my lockup is located they might be tempted to rob me. Also coppers in my line of work are often subject to internal investigations. Villains who get nicked will give up bent coppers hoping for leniency or they turn informant,” Steve lit his own cigarette as he explained the situation.
“Ok, I can set up an account for you under a false name. Only I would have access to it to make deposits and withdrawals. I could also arrange for a percentage of the profits from other investment accounts to trickle into the account, just as I explained last night. But you would have to trust me,” Lilly looked at him earnestly.
“What about Peter? He didn’t seem keen on you diversifying, in fact you said he got a little violent with you after I left,” Steve asked.
Lilly paused and took a minute to think. Then she held out her arms and slid her bracelets away from her wrists and showed Steve the bruises.
“Jesus Christ,” Steve whispered.
“And this,” Lilly opened her housecoat and slid her slip up to the top of her thighs. Steve could see dark purple bruises on her flesh under the cheap tan tights.
“Peter did that?” Steve reached out and gently touched her thigh with his fingertips.
The nylon encasing her thigh felt delightful to touch and the view was magnificent, her legs slightly parted, a glimpse of granny knicker forming a perfect Vee. Steve did his best not to be salacious even though he was enjoying looking at her intimate parts and touching her gossamer-clad legs. He withdrew his hand.
Lilly was aware that Steve’s fingers had lingered a little longer than was necessary when he touched the bruises on her legs and she demurely pulled down her slip and closed her housecoat.
“I don’t know how anyone could hurt you. You seem so delicate, so beautiful, so feminine. If you were mine, all I would want to do is protect you,” Steve blushed, he was not used to displaying sensitivity.
“You would know in your line of work that men can be abusive, even to things they cherish. I’m sure Peter didn’t mean to hurt me. Anyway let’s keep this professional. I only showed you the bruises so that you know how determined Peter is that I do not diversify. This would have to be our secret,” Lilly smiled wanly at him.
Steve suddenly liked the idea of sharing a secret with Lilly. He overstepped the mark and leaned into her and kissed her on the lips. Lilly didn’t fight him off but she didn’t respond either. Even though Lilly was non-responsive, kissing her soft, plush lips felt delightful. He put his hand on her knee and stroked it sensually. Lilly gently removed his hand and moved her face away from him. She was surprised that she felt attracted to Steve and if she let him press his advances she was liable to let him. She felt that she was betraying Peter and to be honest, she didn’t trust herself.
“Let’s just keep this morally appropriate shall we. I’d like to think that kiss was just to seal the deal,” Lilly said demurely but her heart was racing and her cock was tingling.
“Yes, let’s just say that,” Steve was embarrassed that he had misread her behaviour and had been rebuffed and he adjusted his jacket to hide the erection bulging his tight trousers.
“Ok, to the practicalities. We can’t do anything to raise Peter’s suspicions. We need to take the money from your safe, not all in one chunk of course, but in manageable instalments and deposit them in the account I will open for you. You can’t make the deposits yourself. You need to stay away from the bank in case you are recognised,” Lilly became all business-like to dissipate the tension between them.
“How do we do that?” Steve said, thinking of options.
“I have an idea. I don’t want you to bring the money here. Peter might see you and I have nosy neighbours. I will come to your lockup and pick up the money. I’ll hide it here and take it into work and make the deposits. But we need to leave Lester out of it. There can be no link between Lester and you,” Lilly reached for another cigarette.
Peter noticed that Lilly spoke about her alter ego in the third person as if he was a completely different entity and that suited him.
“You pick me up from the Black Sheep tonight after Peter drops me off. On Saturday evenings Peter drops me off at the Black Sheep and then he goes to work as a minicab driver and that's when he robs the houses of his fares, but you know that. After his shift he comes back to the Black Sheep to establish an alibi and we hang out with our friends until the pub shuts,” Lilly was on a roll.
“You take me to your lockup and I’ll pick up the first instalment and put it in my handbag and you take me back to the Black Sheep and I hide the money at home until Monday morning when I take it to the bank. I don’t want to keep all of your money in case Peter finds it,” Lilly had a devilish grin on her face.
“Seems convoluted,” Steve furrowed his brow.
“It is, but convoluted is good. No one sees us together. I get in and out of your car when you pick me up and drop me off and no one sees you passing me anything,” Lilly seemed confident.
Steve could think of better ways of doing the drop but the chance to be alone with Lilly, even at his lockup, was an opportunity he didn’t want to miss.
“Ok, when do we do it?” Steve sounded eager.
“Peter will come home for tea around five, take me to the Black Sheep after and go about his business. You pick me up at the Black Sheep at six thirty. I’ll make sure I’m on the corner behind the pub. It will be crowded but that will be good. As soon as you pull up I’ll get in and you drive away as soon as I close the door,” Lilly explained.
“Ok, we’re on,” Steve picked up his cigarettes and lighter and stood up to leave.
Lilly escorted him to the front door and as he was about to leave she patted him on the shoulder. Steve turned to her and Lilly stood on her tippytoes and leaned in and kissed him briefly on the lips.
“That’s for luck. See you tonight,” Lilly turned away and Steve took a long hard look at her as she walked away down the hallway.
His cock was hard again.
*****
Peter arrived home for an early dinner at 5pm like he did every Saturday. Lilly had made a cottage pie, carrots, cabbage and rich brown gravy and it was ready to be plated as soon as he got home. She was upstairs fixing her makeup before she dressed to go to the Black Sheep. She was wearing a white nylon half-slip, a padded brassiere, white satin knickers with a matching suspender belt and tan fully-fashioned stockings. Her skirt, blouse and jacket were laid out on the bed, the blonde bouffant wig she would be wearing on the wigstand beside her makeup.
She could smell the whisky on Peter as soon as he entered the bedroom. He shouldn’t really be drinking but he’d obviously taken a nip or two before he came upstairs. He came over and nuzzled her cheek.
“Stop honey, you’ll ruin my makeup,” Lilly chided him playfully, stroking his head.
The whisky smell was stronger than she first thought and she wondered if Peter had been drinking on the job. She knew he carried a hipflask sometimes, but never when working.
Peter had been drinking. He’d also been thinking. Last night the sex had been amazing. There was something about dominating his precious little Lilly that had really turned him on. He remembered their first night together when he had blackmailed her into sex and then became remorseful but she had surrendered to him anyway. That was a buzz, but not like the buzz he experienced last night when he threw her on the bed and buggered her while she wailed at him and tried to fight him off. He almost wished she hadn't capitulated. He could still feel her anus contracting and undulating around his cock as she tried in vain to expel him.
They had had a loving relationship until last night when they’d had their first fight and he had forced himself on her. Peter had no idea that being dominant could be such a turn-on. He’d thought about it all day, dealing with the angel on his shoulder who told him he was a prick and he should cherish Lilly and apologise to her, while the devil on his other shoulder told him that she was his to do with as he pleased and he could treat her however he liked. He still had the means to blackmail her if he wanted to.
Then he’d started drinking and he kept thinking about her lying on the bed struggling as he slammed his cock into her, dragging her to her knees and holding her tight as he ravished her. He knew that she had climaxed, he’d seen the evidence in the front her knickers which were soaked with her jism. Maybe she liked it rough too?
“I’ll ruin your makeup you little harlot. I’ll ruin it when I spunk all over your face,” Peter growled.
“What has got into you Peter? Why are you talking to me like that? You know that I’ve never denied you anything you wanted,” Lilly was not happy with this sudden change in temperament.
“You have got into me! I told you to leave it alone and then last night you tell Steve that you’re going to be some bigshot money manager for all of the villains in Manchester,” Peter breathed whisky fumes in her face.
“I never said any such thing. I merely offered him a business proposal,” Lilly snipped.
She had no intention of telling Peter about her meeting with Steve today.
“Well you stick to looking after my money and my needs. That should be enough for you. Now come here and do what you do best,” Peter physically lifted Lilly out of her seat and pushed her down on her knees.
She knew that resistance was futile, especially while Peter was drunk and unreasonable.
Peter’s cock was level with her face. Despite her anger and reluctance she had to admit that it was a magnificent specimen. His member was partially hard; quivering, long, thick and veiny with a globule of clear precum glistening from the eye which she lapped up before she tentatively licked the pink glistening glans.
She figured that a quick compliant blowjob would be better than being thrown on the bed and ravished like she had been last night and justified her remaining demure and compliant.
Peter’s cock felt spongy and pliable. Because of the booze he was incapable of becoming fully erect and developing the steely rod that usually sprang from his groin as soon as she touched it. Lilly explored his fraenulum with the tip of her tongue and when Peter moaned she was relieved. Hopefully she could get him off quickly. She took his partially engorged cock in her mouth and began to suck it, running her red-lipsticked lips up and down the shaft whilst her tongue lapped at his glans. Peter began to leak pre-ejaculate and she grimaced as she swallowed it, feeling sad because she usually loved drinking down his sweet nectar.
Peter looked down at Lilly dressed only in her lingerie as she sucked his cock. This was where she belonged, being subservient and at his disposal, not pretending that she was some hoity-toity businesswoman. He knew that it was the booze fuelling his emotions but he couldn’t help relishing being overbearing and dominant. He looked down at her big beautiful eyes enhanced by her makeup, her fine cheekbones rouged and powdered, her lips coated in bright red lipstick slavering his manhood.
Peter’s cock refused to become fully erect and she didn’t want to spend half the night on her knees trying to get him off as he struggled with alcohol induced impotence so Lilly cupped his scrotum and gently caressed it as she used all of her oral skills on his cock. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze, putting a demure, pleasing and supplicant look on her face. He could see the fear and confusion on Lilly’s face and it fuelled his ardour.
This did the trick. Pandering to Peter’s fantasy that she was his plaything and that he had total dominance over her. His cock began to judder and she sensed the semen roiling in his sac ready to explode. Peter put his hands on Lilly’s head and began to fuck her face as his orgasm washed over him. He cried out with the ecstasy of it. His knees buckled and his legs shook as torrents of semen burst from his cock and filled Lilly’s mouth.
He ripped his cock from her lips and sprayed the last of his issue over her pretty face, smearing her makeup with his cock. Ropes of ejaculate sprayed into her eyes and across her cheeks. Lilly closed her eyes because it stung and Peter smiled evilly as he sullied her face with his jism. Her eyeshadow, eyeliner and mascara blurred into a congealed palette and her bright red lipstick smeared around her mouth. She looked like a pretty, cum-covered clown, except she was whimpering not laughing. He bounced his clock on her nose to complete the indignity and then he put his cock away unwashed.
“Get up and go fix your face and then get my dinner, kitten,” Peter chuckled when he saw her flinch as he mocked her.
He left the room and Lilly heard the clink of bottles and glasses coming from downstairs as Peter poured himself a drink he seriously didn’t need. She refused to cry. She went to the bathroom and washed her face and brushed her teeth then she sat down at the vanity table and redid her makeup. She put on her housecoat and went down and gave Peter his dinner which he ate in stony silence.
“I’ll probably be late. Don’t wait up,” Peter growled as he slammed the front door behind him.
*****
Lilly sat before the vanity, the silence of the house seemed oppressive. She wondered what had changed between her and Peter. She supposed he had a right to angry when she had pressed her ideas about setting up bogus accounts on Steve Vogel after Peter had warned her not to. She thought last night was a one off and that Peter would revert to his loving self. But this morning she had been greeted with stony silence and then this evening he had vented his anger on her again.
Was this to be their life now? If it was, she wanted nothing to with it. She was no longer the little mouse trapped in the house, too scared to venture out and show her true self to the world. Peter was responsible for giving her the courage to live her life as she wanted to live it, but it was not his right to control and manipulate her and take out his anger with her by sexually abusing her.
Peter probably thought he had effectively grounded Lilly by not dropping her at The Black Sheep as he did every Saturday night before he went out and burgled his unsuspecting passenger’s houses. But Lilly was not going to be imprisoned. She would go to The Black Sheep and she would meet Steve Vogel as planned. She dressed and went downstairs and telephoned Caroline’s Cabs.
The dispatcher informed Lilly that he could have a minicab at her address in fifteen minutes. She realised that there was a slim chance that Peter’s cab might be the car dispatched as fares were assigned on a first in – first served basis at the depot but the odds were in her favour and when a green Vauxhall Viva pulled up outside her house she was relived.
She sat in the back and endured the driver’s constant glances and glares in the rear-view mirror. The driver knew what sort of establishment The Black Sheep was and he openly ogled Lilly when she came outside and climbed into the cab. He’d uncharacteristically got out and opened the door for her when they arrived at their destination and she saw his eyes light up when she accidently flashed her knickers as she climbed out of the back seat.
Lilly suppressed her anxiety and excitement when she met up with Crystal inside the pub. Richard was sitting with Crystal as usual but Wendy and Brittany were not in attendance. Brittany had already gone down the towpath with a gentleman friend and Wendy had stayed home. Richard went to the bar to buy drinks and Lilly took the opportunity to confide in Crystal.
“Later on I’ve got to duck out for a bit, save me a seat and if Peter shows up tell him I was here but you don’t know where I got to,” Lilly squeezed Crystal’s leg conspiratorially.
“You got a bit on the side? You’re not going down the canal are you?” Crystal whispered; she liked intrigue.
Lilly just winked at Crystal and when Richard returned they made small talk while the drag queens circulated around the pub selling bingo tickets, joking with the crowd and getting them excited.
At six-twenty Lilly leaned into Crystal Lilly and whispered.
“Ok, I’m off, I’ll be back soon,” she just winked at Crystal and squeezed out from behind the table taking her handbag with her.
She fought her way through the crowd heading towards the ladies lavatory and then she ducked outside and took a deep breath of the cool night air. Steve Vogel’s Ford Escort was parked in the agreed spot and Lilly clamoured into the front seat, all knees and elbows, uncaring about her modesty. Steve got an eyeful of her long legs, stocking tops and even a glimpse of knicker which he appreciated.
“Let’s go,” Lilly wheezed as she put on her seatbelt.
As they drove to Steve’s lockup they discussed their plan and Lilly reiterated that Peter must be kept out of it. Given recent events he was likely to blow his top if he knew what Lilly was up to. Lilly was excited to be out on her own and going somewhere other than the pub. The intrigue and secrecy was also rousing.
When they arrived at the lockup Steve got out and opened the roller door which was a slightly convoluted process because he had to unlock several padlocks to gain entrance. He drove the car inside the lockup and got out and turned on the fluorescent lights. Lilly was quite surprised at how spacious the lockup was inside. It was actually two lockups joined together with the dividing wall knocked out and the entrance to the second lockup bricked in.
There was a workbench along the rear wall with tool cabinets on the wall above it. Several filing cabinets were arranged around a single desk which was surprisingly neat with in and out trays and even a telephone. The safe Steve had spoken about was situated behind the desk. It was very substantial and looked like it weighed a ton. The other walls were lined with boxes filled with contraband. In the far corner was a tiny kitchenette where a sofa had been arranged to face an expensive looking colour TV and radiogram. A bed was pushed against the wall. It was unmade, the comforter pulled back and the pillows strew around bed.
“Quite the nest you have made for yourself,” Lily said as she alighted from the car.
“I do all my extracurricular business from here. I don’t keep anything incriminating at home. If I’m working late I sometimes sleep here,” Steve nodded at the bed.
“You are now one of the few people who know where it is, even Peter doesn’t know,” Steve lit a cigarette and went over to the kitchenette and took a bottle of gin from one of the cupboards.
He poured two generous gin and tonics and took them over to the sofa and Lilly joined him.
“You in a rush?” Steve asked as he invited Lilly to sit.
“Peter won’t get home until after ten when his shift finishes. He has to go back to the depot first and cash in and in the unlikely event that he comes home earlier he’ll guess I’ve gone to The Black Sheep and Crystal will cover for me,” Lilly sat down, smoothing her skirt under her as she did so.
“Well this is it Lilly. This is your last chance to pull out. Once you take my money we’re are committed,” Steve said levelly, handing Lilly her drink.
“I’m in,” Lilly said determinedly and took a big sip of her drink.
“What about Peter? What if he finds out you went behind his back?” Steve countered.
“Fuck Peter!” Lilly replied, stunning Steve with her vehement response.
“Trouble in paradise?” Steve asked.
“Paradise lost, I’m afraid,” Lilly replied and finished her drink in one gulp.
“Look, I know I was unspeakably rude to you when I first met you and I apologised for that. It seems to me that Peter dotes on you and I can understand why. You seem to be quite the couple, despite the circumstances,” Steve felt self-conscious baring his thoughts.
“He’s become possessive and I have to admit that now that I’m comfortable presenting my true self to the world, I feel a little trapped. Also, as I told you, he’s starting to become a little violent,” Lilly felt better talking to someone about it.
“You showed me bruises,” Steve sighed.
“He was rough with me again this afternoon. He’d been drinking and… well I won’t go into the details but I think I need to get away from him somehow but I don’t know how,” Lilly sounded lost.
“How could anyone be that way with you? As a copper I know that you never really know what goes between couples behind closed doors but I thought Peter was infatuated with you,” Steve said.
“I think that’s part of it. He has this picture in his mind that I’m his chattel. That he possesses me and if I step out of line he gets angry. At first I loved that he loved me, or thinks he loves me, but I’m beginning to feel trapped,” Lilly began to sob.
Steve gently pulled her to him so that she could cry on his shoulder. She seemed so delicate and vulnerable. Her perfume was intoxicating and the feel of her body pressing against him was provocative.
Steve had accepted a free blowjob or two from the trannies he had pinched down at the canal when he was a Trainee Detective Constable. They would do anything to keep from getting nicked and he knew that other coppers did the same if the ‘girl’ was good looking. But he had never really thought of them as anything other than nancies.
But there was something about Lilly that intrigued him. He knew what she was but that only made her more alluring and desirable. He’d come to know her as a real person and the more he knew about how she lived and how she felt, the more he had become intrigued by her. Sometimes he wished he wasn’t.
Lilly had put her arms around Steve and was clinging to him, letting out her angst and frustration. Steve embraced her softly and let her cry it out.
“I’m sorry. You must think I’m such a ditz. I know that you despise my type and I guess I’m just a trope. A queer little tranny who cries like a girl when things don’t go her way,” Lilly disengaged and sat up straight, shook away her tears and dabbed at her eyes with a hankie.
Steve swallowed.
“On the contrary I think you are beautiful and delicate and desirable and I don’t understand why Peter would ever hurt you. I think he is a lucky man to have someone as lovely and intelligent as you. That kiss you placed on my lips when I left your house still lingers on my lips,” Steve looked into her emerald-green eyes that were brimming with tears.
Lilly stared into Steve’s brown eyes, which at that moment seemed to expound tenderness. They were framed by his wheaty-blonde fringe. His features were handsome, almost delicate, a far cry from Peter’s weathered outdoorsman appearance.
Something passed between them and when Steve leaned into her and kissed her, Lilly felt herself melt. A pang of guilt fleetingly crossed her mind and then she surrendered and became consumed by the moment. She pressed her lips against Steve’s. His lips were soft and yielding and she scooched closer to him and put her arms around him and he held her close but he didn’t clutch her.
The kiss lingered, soft and gentle, each of them savouring the moment. Steve resisted the urge to fondle her, to progress any further than the soft warm embrace and delicate kiss. Lilly sensed his reticence and she adored him for it. She was vulnerable and she knew that Steve knew it. It would have been easy for him to seduce her into a pity fuck and she respected him for not taking advantage of her.
But…
Lilly wanted more from Steve. She wanted to be with another man; a man who respected her for her intelligence and personality not just because she was pretty, desirable and sexy. She knew that she was all those things because Peter told her constantly as did the men who coveted her at The Black Sheep. She took Steve’s hand and placed it on her knee. She opened her lips and slid her tongue into Steve’s mouth and held him tighter, rubbing her body against him.
Steve was conflicted. He adored this woman despite knowing what she was. He had wanted to shag her since the moment he met her and had fantasised about doing so. He’d recalled the time she bent over the vacuum cleaner, unknowingly allowing him to witness how her nylon slip clung to her shapely buttocks, the many times her skirt had ridden up and he’d surreptitiously ogled her long shapely legs, the occasional glimpse of knicker. He’d recalled how her face lit up when she smiled, how attractive and desirable she was. She was a delicate little flower that fuelled his desires every time he saw her.
“We shouldn’t,” Steve broke the kiss but his hand stayed resting on her knee.
“Because of what I am? Because you think I belong to Peter? Because we shouldn’t mix business with pleasure?” Lilly asked, searching his eyes for an answer.
They were still holding each other close, their faces almost touching.
“Because if we do, I’m afraid that I won’t want to stop. I’m afraid that I won’t want to share you. I’m afraid that I will become more infatuated with you than I already am, and thinking about you already takes up far too much of my time,” Steve whispered.
“You know what I dislike about you?” Lilly whispered.
“That I’m a bent copper? That I called you those horrible names when I first met you? That I’m trying to take advantage of your vulnerability?” Steve replied.
“No, it’s your honesty and integrity when it comes to me. Now stop behaving like a gentleman and take what I am offering. If you don’t I’ll feel silly and rejected and unattractive and …” before Lilly could finish Steve pressed his lips to hers.
This time the kiss was not gentle. It was passionate and needy and provocative. Lilly squirmed against Steve’s lean body, pressing herself into him. Her lips parted and she slipped her tongue into his mouth and his tongue met hers. His hand was still resting on her knee and his fingers began to stroke her there, circling her skin, feeling the sensuousness of her diaphanous hosiery.
Steve adored women’s legs clad in nylon. He was a sucker for a pair of pins clad in sheer tights or stockings and he hadn't missed the fact that Lilly was wearing fully-fashioned nylons which were his favourite. His tongue explored her mouth while his fingers slipped under her leg and caressed the little wrinkles in her stocking behind her knee. He felt Lilly shiver and suppress a moan.
His fingers began a long, languorous journey up her leg. He took his time to investigate the expanse of her thigh until he came to the dark gauzy welt at the top of her stocking. He could feel the hem of her silky slip resting on the back of his hand as he fondled the dark, lubricious, band of slippery nylon. He playfully fingered one of her garter snaps before he found the soft white flesh above the welt. He stopped there and moved his hand to her other knee and began the process all over again, savouring every second.
Lilly adored that Steve was taking his time exploring her legs. She relished the feel of his fingers stroking her thighs, lingering just below the hem of her skirt, then progressing to the top of her stocking and finally caressing the creamy soft flesh above the dark band of her stocking-top. Her cock uncoiled in her satin knickers, springing forth from where it had been tucked against her perineum and her testes descended from her inguinal canals, distending her scrotal sac. She tented her skirt.
Steve was enamoured with her. He could taste her sweet breath and her saliva as their tongues wove together, he could smell her perfume, her hair tickled his face, her lips felt heavenly, her tiny body fitted against him perfectly. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest, he could feel her breathing becoming erratic, he could feel her body trembling and he knew that she could feel the exact same responses in him as his pulse quickened and his heart raced.
Steve’s hand continued its journey up her leg until he found the lacy edge of her white satin knickers. He played with the lace, teasing her and then his fingers crept upward across the sleek satin. Lilly’s hand suddenly clamped down on his wrist, preventing him from exploring further and Lilly broke the kiss. Perhaps he had gone too far? Perhaps he had misread her intentions?
“You don’t have to touch me there. I will understand if what is between my legs repulses you,” Lilly whispered.
“For someone who is as intelligent and perceptive as you are Lilly, you are also naïve and you don’t know everything,” Steve smiled down at her and then pressed his lips against hers.
He shook off her grip and his fingers circled her bloated phallus through her knickers, softly caressing it, sliding the satin fabric along the sensitive flesh.
Steve was as surprised as she that he was not repulsed. On the contrary he was suddenly curious and then delighted to feel her cock slowly harden to his touch. Steve had thought about this. He had wondered what he would do if Lilly ever succumbed to his charms. He knew that he could use her mouth and her anus to gratify his needs without touching her there and that she would probably enjoy that but he also knew that it would be churlish and selfish. If he really felt the way he thought he felt about Lilly then he would have to accept her exactly as she was.
It was exciting feeling Lilly’s cock strain against her knickers and to hear her whimper and feel her body tremble as he slowly wrapped his fingers around her turgid member and squeezed it. He felt a little wet spot begin to spread in the silky fabric of her knickers where the head of her penis stretched the gauzy material. Lilly was fully concupiscent and erect and he was the one who had elicited her fervour and awakened her desires. It made him feel content and jubilant. Lilly deserved to be pleasured and indulged.
Lilly’s fingers scrambled at Steve’s flies, her fingernails skittering on the teeth of his zipper as she searched for the little tang that would allow her to unfasten it. She found it and slowly unzipped him, making him wait, feeling him tense up in anticipation. Her fingers slipped inside his trousers and found his hard, fervid flesh straining against his underpants. She freed his prong and it stood proud and steely, jutting out of his trousers. She stroked it with featherlight caresses and she smiled when Steve gasped. She extruded a dewy droplet of pre-ejaculate from his glans and worked the viscous nectar into his turgid shaft.
Lilly and Steve were locked together in a passionate embrace, stroking each other’s cocks, enthralled with the licentiousness of the situation. They were having illicit sex in a lockup surrounded by contraband and cash earned duplicitously. In a way it was metaphor; Lilly was cheating on Peter, the only other man she had ever had sex with, and Steve was having sex with the only transvestite he had ever felt anything for other than loathing.
Steve reluctantly broke the kiss and removed his hand from under Lilly’s skirt. He lifted Lilly up into his arms and carried her to the bed, stopping briefly to extinguish the glaring overhead fluorescents and switched on the bedlamp before gently lowering Lilly onto the bed. The bed smelled of man. Lilly could smell Steve’s sweat on the sheets and pillowcases along with a scintilla of Brut aftershave. She also thought that she could smell a trace of dried semen. The Mayfair and Fiesta magazines and bottle of moisturiser on the nightstand were evidence of Steve’s solitary sexual undertakings. To Lilly it smacked of loneliness and desperation. For a brief moment she felt sorry for Steve.
Lilly imagined Steve lying on the bed naked, the coverlet pulled back from his rangy body, his hand working the moisturiser into his long turgid member as he looked fixedly at the lingerie-clad models in the magazines, whipping his organ until his seed spattered on his belly and stained the sheets. The mental image was erotic but also a little pathetic. She decided that Steve would not be masturbating all alone in the lockup tonight.
Lilly took off her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse while Steve began to strip. She threw the jacket and blouse on the floor and her skirt followed. She was about to shimmy out of the satin half-slip when Steve stopped her.
“Leave it on. It makes you look sexy and I love the feel of it,” Steve was kneeling on the bed, sliding the half-slip back and forth across Lilly’s stocking–swathed legs.
Lilly was lying back with her head on the pillows, smiling up at him. She outstretched her arms, beckoning him to lay with her, Steve’s cock sticking out like the prow of ship from his long, lean body. He fell on her and Lilly wrapped her arms and legs around him and drew him close. His cock pressed into her belly, rubbing on her silky slip as they kissed passionately. Lilly’s cock was straining against her knickers, she pressed it against Steve’s hard body, delighting it the sensation of her slip and knickers fretting her shaft.
They were both impatient and needy, craving release and Lilly desperately wanted to feel Steve inside her. Her fingers skittered across the nightstand until she found the bottle of Boots moisturiser. She squirted a generous puddle of liquid in her hand and slathered it on Steve’s cock. He shuddered as she did so, trying hard not to ejaculate as her fingers smeared the salve onto his throbbing prong. She opened her legs and eased aside the gusset of her knickers and daubed the remaining balm on her sphincter.
Steve stared lovingly into her pretty face as she guided his manhood to her puckered bud. She smiled up him reverently and nodded and Steve pressed his lips to hers and slid his phallus all the way inside her, hearing her gasp, feeling her shudder, her cock pressed against his hard belly still imprisoned in her knickers and slip. Lilly locked her legs around him as she felt his hard, fleshy pole light up the pleasure receptors ringing her sphincter and his glans pressing on her aching prostate.
Steve felt Lilly’s sphincter open like the petals of a flower and her anus clenched his cock like a tight, velvet tunnel. The feeling was like nothing her had ever experienced and he drove himself all the way inside her until his scrotum slapped against her silky, satin knickers. Lilly was scissoring her legs, encouraging him, her stockings felt like silken butterfly wings fluttering against his skin. Her high heels were locked behind his back and her back arched as she impaled herself on his mighty staff.
Lilly shuddered and mewed into his mouth, her nails raked his back and Steve felt the material of her slip suddenly become saturated with warm, viscous milt, he could feel her cock judder against his belly as she expressed her seed. She was coming.
Lilly couldn’t stop herself. Steve’s body pressed her into the bed, his lips were pressed tightly on hers, his tongue trilled inside her mouth, his belly mashed against her cock, his penis stretched her anus. It filled her void and elicited delightful, gratifying sensations that she didn’t think were possible. Her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave of pleasure and intensified when she felt Steve ejaculate deep inside her, his cock hardly moving, imprisoned in her tight, velvet sheath, pulsing as jet after jet of his musky essence filled her aching cranny.
The lovers clung to each other, unspeaking, but mewing and gasping as they extracted as much pleasure as they could from each other, delighted in knowing that each of them was pleasuring the other. When Steve was spent he lay on top of Lilly, pressing her into the bed, kissing her softly now that the pinnacle of their desires had been summited. When he tried to disentangle himself, Lilly tightened her arms and legs, clutching at him, refusing to let him go.
“Where do you think you are going?” she smiled up at him.
She brushed his fringe away and stared up lovingly into his beautiful blue eyes, drowning in them just as Steve drowned in Lilly’s emerald-green orbs.
“Should we have done that?” Steve asked soberly.
“I think we both know that we were going to do that, from the minute I kissed you goodbye this morning,” Lilly sighed.
“So, are we lovers now?” Steve whispered.
“If you want us to be,” Lilly said demurely.
“Then we are,” Steve lowered his face to her and they kissed tenderly.
To be continued
Surrender - Chapter 3
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Chapter Three – The Rings
Steve drove Lilly back to the Black Sheep and parked where he had picked her up. They kissed each other farewell, both of them reluctant to say goodbye. Steve watched Lilly walk down the street to the entrance to the pub and sighed. There was no doubt that what he felt for Lilly was more than just lust but he also realised that he had become entangled in an almost impossible situation.
Lilly had five thousand pounds of his hard earned cash in her handbag and he had no doubt that she would invest it wisely but Steve knew that Peter would be angry if he found out that Lilly had gone behind his back and against his wishes. Steve also knew that Peter would be furious if he found out that he and Lilly had been having sex. Lilly had told him that Peter was jealous and possessive of her and that he had started to become violent and Steve did not want anything bad to happen to the lady he had just discovered he had intense feelings for.
Lilly made a beeline for her usual table and saw that Brittany had returned from the towpath and was sitting with another beau. Crystal and Richard were seated there too and Crystal smiled conspiratorially at Lilly as she squeezed into her seat between the two couples. She had stopped at the bar and bought herself a gin and tonic and was sipping it when she saw Peter barging his way through the crowd.
Lilly had made it back to the Black Sheep just in time. Her business with Steve had taken far longer than she expected and she smiled to herself as she felt a dribble of Steve’s spunk leak from her bottom into her knickers, evidence of why she had taken long.
“How did you get here?” Peter demanded as he pulled up a chair, forcing everyone at the table to move over to let him in.
“You're not the only minicab driver in Manchester. You stormed off and left me at home and you know how much I love my Saturday nights out at the Black Sheep,” Lilly replied.
Peter was still drunk and obstreperous but Lilly sidled up to him and squeezed his leg and nibbled his ear trying to be conciliatory.
“I’ll make it up to you when we get home,” Lilly whispered and snaked her hand up his thigh and squeezed his cock through his trousers.
“You bet you will,” Peter slid his hand under Lilly’s skirt and clasped her thigh.
Lilly knew that Peter was angry because she had gone to the Black Sheep with another minicab driver and was suspicious about her actions. He quizzed Crystal who had backed Lilly’s story that she had been dropped off at the pub in a minicab and had been with her and Richard all night at their table playing bingo, singing along with the knees-up and laughing, joking and drinking. Crystal thought that Lilly’s absence was due to her sneaking down the canal to meet another lover but she kept schtum. It was not unusual for the transvestites who frequented the Black Sheep to have a ‘steady boyfriend’ but also undertake dalliances when their boyfriend wasn’t present.
Peter continued to drink heavily and Lilly offered to drive home but Peter was determined to do so himself. Peter was not a sloppy drunk and he retained his faculties as he drove home carefully, and thankfully, a little slower than usual. Lilly was hoping that having been drinking all day that Peter would be neither desirous nor capable of sex but that wasn’t the case.
As soon as they were inside Lilly’s flat Peter began to paw at her. He pressed her against the wall in the hallway forcing sloppy kisses on her. He hitched up her skirt and squeezed her buttocks. Thankfully he seemed blissfully unaware that the rear of Lilly’s knickers were damp with Steve’s semen. Steve had unloaded twice in Lilly’s bottom at the lockup and she was a little sore and not particularly in the mood for sex but Peter would not be denied.
Lilly let Peter have his way with her, suggesting they move up to the bedroom but Peter was impatient and overly stimulated. She returned his sloppy kisses and reached for him, surprised to find that despite the alcohol he was quite concupiscent. She thought that maybe if she dropped to her knees and used her oral skills on him he might be content with fellatio.
Peter dropped trou and Lilly took his cock into her mouth and began to suckle it, sliding her lips up and down the shaft and tickling his glans and frenulum with her tongue, just the way she knew Peter liked it. Peter held her head so tight that he knocked off her blond bouffant wig but that didn’t concern him, he entangled his fingers in her blunt-cut feathered bob and fucked her mouth. When she gagged he just fucked her mouth harder.
Lilly was choking on Peter’s thick cock, doing her best to work her lips and tongue to get him off; she stroked his scrotal sac and looked up at him with her brilliant green eyes enhanced by her black eyeliner and mascara. Peter glared down at her and held her face tightly in his hands and thrust his cock in and out of her red-lipsticked lips.
Lilly could sense that Peter was becoming frustrated. Although he was able to cultivate a strong vibrant erection the alcohol in his system was preventing him from climaxing and he was taking his frustration out on Lilly.
She was actually relieved when Peter dragged her to her feet, spun her around and slammed her into the wall, hitching up her skirt and pawing at her knickers. His cock was losing its rigidity as he pawed at her buttocks trying to force his semi-hard member into her rectum. Peter was oblivious to the fact that the rear of Lilly’s kickers was soaked with Steve Vogel’s semen but it turned out to be a godsend.
Instead of Peter trying desperately to push his cock into Lilly’s dry hole, her anus was clotted with Steve’s spunk which acted as a lubricant.
Lilly grunted when Peter managed to force the head of his cock inside her sphincter. She concentrated on loosening the tight ring of her sphincter which facilitated Peter’s entry.
“Take that you bitch,” Peter grunted, his breath foul with beer, whisky and cigarettes.
Once he had his glans inside Lilly his cock became fully erect, her slick anus swaddled his shaft, evoking a steely tumescence which Peter pushed into Lilly as far as it would go.
“That’s better kitten, now let’s have you then,” Peter sniggered.
Despite using his pet name for Lilly he showed her no affection. He dug his fingers into her hips, gripping her tight as he slammed his cock in and out of her anus. Lilly took the battering, dutifully pushing her buttocks back into Peter’s groin and arching her back so that he had unencumbered access to her tight void. She gritted her teeth and stifled her moans as Peter assaulted her back passage.
When Lilly pushed out her buttocks and opened her legs to accommodate him, Peter moved his hands down to her thighs, clutching them for purchase as he slammed his hard cock in and out of her slick tunnel. Lilly was ever grateful that she had gone straight to the Black Sheep unable to douche away Steve’s emissions. Steve’s congealed jism lubricated her anus, making Peter’s assault on her rectum tolerable despite the pain.
Peter pressed Lilly against the wall for what seemed like an eternity, pounding her, twisting her head sideways so he could place slobbering kisses on her mouth, raking her thighs until her stockings were in tatters. Then finally he roared like a rampant lion as his orgasm finally erupted. He slammed Lilly hard into the wall and drove his cock as deep inside her as it would go and blasted the wall of her anus with his hot, viscous load. He ground his groin into Lilly’s soft buttocks and gyrated his hips.
Despite the pain, Lilly’s biology betrayed her. Peter’s thick cock illicited flowerets of pleasure from her sphincter and the walls of her anus, his bloated glans pressed on her prostate as he unloaded his essence inside her and Lilly’s cock dribbled a little freshet of spunk into her already saturated knickers. The orgasm was feeble but it distracted her from the pain. She whimpered with guilt and shame as she climaxed, feeling Peter’s semen comingling with Steve’s issue. Lilly felt degraded and sluttish. Her anus had been ravished four times that day, twice tenderly by the man she was becoming to feel a strong affection for and twice violated by the man she was starting to hate.
Peter pulled his cock from Lilly’s battered derriere and wiped it on her skirt contemptuously before pushing her away.
“You don’t go anywhere unless you’re with me or I drive you. You’re mine Lilly. If it wasn’t for me you would still be playing dressup at home, sticking dildos up your arse while you watch pornography, taking pictures of yourself and putting them in that pathetic cardboard box I found in your wardrobe,” Peter grunted as he pulled up his trousers.
Lilly did not need to be reminded that before Peter had burgled her house and approached her with the intent to blackmail her, she had lived a sheltered fearful existence. Peter had freed her but she had come to realise that he had also imprisoned her. The phrase familiarity breeds contempt sprang to mind. Peter had cherished her, adored her, had even given her a pet name but when Lilly became more self-confident and started to display independence he had reverted to bullying and blackmail.
Lilly still felt affection for Peter and she had always shown him reverence and gratitude for freeing her from the shackles of loneliness and self-doubt but she now felt shackles of a different kind imprisoning her.
She hobbled upstairs to her bedroom and disrobed, throwing her tattered nylons and semen-curdled knickers in the bin. She showered and changed into her night attire and took the skirt that Peter had contemptuously wiped his cock on down to the laundry to wash it before the semen stain set. Peter was snoring on the sofa, an open bottle of whisky and a half-full glass on the coffee table in front of him. She capped the bottle and put a blanket over him to keep him warm.
The next morning she was busy in the kitchen making Peter’s Sunday fry-up. The clattering of pots and pans awoke him and she heard him groan as he made his way upstairs to bathe and change. When he returned he was freshly showered and shaved and he snuggled up to her as she tended the frying pan. He nuzzled her neck and told her how beautiful she was and that he was sorry if he’d made an arsehole of himself the night before.
She sat across from him at the breakfast table, watching him shovel eggs, bacon, sausage and baked beans into his mouth while she sipped tea and smoked a cigarette. If it was painful watching him eat but at least it kept him silent. She recalled how she used to love watching Peter devour the meals she cooked for him, he telling her how delicious her food was, but now she found his smacking and chomping quite repellent.
When Peter had finished eating he pushed his plate away and burped and reached across the table and snatched up Lilly’s cigarettes and lit one. Then he made an announcement that Lilly found astonishing.
“I want you to have this,” Peter snatched at Lilly’s hand and forced a diamond ring on her finger.
Lilly could tell that it was the real thing and not some costume replica of which she had many.
“Where did you get this?” Lilly asked feeling a little dumbfounded.
“I burgled a really posh gaff in Trafford last night. The jewellery I nicked will fetch a pretty penny,” Peter said triumphantly, blowing smoke across the table.
“I’m going to talk to Smiley this morning to see if he can fence it. He’ll get me a good price and I don’t want it in the house just in case the coppers put two and two together,” Peter said out of the blue.
John Smiley was one of Peter’s fences and owned a couple of pawn shops through which he sold ill-gotten gains but even Lilly knew that good quality jewellery stolen from a well-to-do household was hard to move. It would have to be shipped to London or possibly overseas or the jewels excised and sold separately as gemstones.
Peter usually burgled houses in suburban Manchester taking cash, watches, cameras, small household appliances, personal items, and silverware, which was easily sold on through pawn shops, car boot markets or second-hand shops and most of the jewellery he pinched was more likely to be cheap family heirlooms rather than anything extremely valuable. The police never really expected to recover such loot and as Lilly knew from her own experience their advice to the homeowner was to claim the loss on insurance. The theft of a substantial amount of valuable jewellery from a prominent community member though would mean that that the Burglary Squad and the Serious Crime Division would be charged with the investigation rather than just a visit from the wooden-tops.
The detectives would undoubtedly want to interview Peter because he had picked up the occupant in his minicab on the night of the burglary and if they suspected that he was linked to the theft they would want to search his residence. Lilly’s concern was that they might somehow link Peter to her, especially as his alibi would be that he was at the Black Sheep with her. She had five thousand pounds of Steve Vogel’s money secreted in her bedroom and if the police searched her house they would likely find it.
Peter spent some time on the phone talking to John Smiley, who although keen to fence the valuable haul, was not inclined to keep it anywhere near Manchester and told Peter that they would have to drive to London to visit a friend of his who was an expert in peddling jewellery of that calibre.
Peter packed an overnight bag and made preparations to drive across town to John Smiley’s pawnshop where he would pick him up and together they would journey to London where they would stay overnight.
“Enjoy the ring kitten and I’m sorry about yesterday, I just had a bit too much to drink,” Peter kissed Lilly and squeezed her buttocks.
“You were pretty pissed yesterday Peter, are sure you took all the usual precautions?” Lilly asked, concerned that alcohol had affected Peter’s usual thoroughness when he went about his crimes.
“Don’t worry about me kitten, by the time the old bill come to feel my collar I won’t have any of the stolen jewellery but I will have a bundle of cash hidden away for you to invest for me,” Peter sounded very confident.
*****
Lilly made the most of having the house to herself and she dressed in ten-denier tan Pretty Polly sheer-to-the-waist tights, black satin and lace full-cut knickers, a blue wrap housedress and white four-inch high heels. Even when she was dressed casually Lilly enjoyed taking care of her appearance. She did her makeup and fussed with her blunt-cut feathered bob, not bothering with an elaborate wig nor did she bother with a brassiere or breastforms as she would not be going out.
She made a pot of tea, gathered the Sunday papers and curled up on the sofa. On page four of The Guardian there was an article about a prominent member of the community who lived in Trafford whose house had been burgled and had been robbed of a considerable amount of cash and jewellery.
Lilly absentmindedly chewed a red manicured fingernail as she read the story. It had to be Peter, although he hadn't mentioned taking any cash from the house.
There was a loud knock on the front door which startled Lilly and she jumped to her feet and skittered down the hallway and put her eye to the peephole. Detective Constable Steve Vogel was looking anxiously up and down the street as he stood on her doorstep. Lilly opened the door and Steve stepped inside and closed the door firmly behind him. He brushed past Lilly and went straight into the lounge room where he turned to face her.
“Where is he?” Steve said bluntly.
“He’s not home. He’s gone to London with some bloke named John Smiley,” Lilly answered, a little flustered.
They both knew that they were talking about Peter.
“Fucking clown knocked over Jimmy Fothergill’s gaff last night. He should have known better. The deal is Peter burgles working class houses around our manor where I can control the investigations and see him looked after. He’s gone off the reservation as our American cousins are want to say,” Steve sounded angry and his demeanour reflected his ire.
“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure Peter will make sure you get your cut,” Lilly replied curtly, a little miffed with Steve’s attitude.
Steve took a deep breath and calmed down. He finally took the time to good look at Lilly and his face broke into a cheerful grin.
“I’m sorry Lilly. I shouldn’t be angry with you. You had nothing to do with it. I know where you were when the robbery was taking place,” Steve looked at her licentiously and Lilly blushed.
Steve went over to Lilly and took her in his arms and kissed her and Lilly felt her heart flutter. Steve was dressed as usual in tight stonewashed jeans, a white cotton shirt, soft brown leather jacket and polished brown ankle-boots.
“So, we have the place to ourselves?” Steve smiled conspiratorially down at Lilly.
He brushed her hair out of her eyes affectionately and kissed the tip of her nose.
“He won’t be back until tomorrow,” Lilly breathed.
“Sit down pet, we need to talk,” Steve suddenly became serious.
Lilly went to the kitchen and brought a cup and saucer back to the lounge room, sat down on the sofa and poured Steve a cup of tea. He lit a cigarette for her and one for himself and took a sip of tea and addressed Lilly.
“Jimmy Fothergill is a good friend of the Chief Constable and the boss has got us crawling all over Manchester looking for Peter. The burglary squad went straight to Caroline’s Cabs and checked her ledgers and they know that it was Peter’s minicab that picked up Jimmy last night. Jimmy normally has his driver take him around the manor but he said his Jag was in the garage being fixed and his wife had taken their Bentley to London,” Steve explained.
“Jimmy said he took a minicab for convenience but we know the real reason was because he was going to see a girlfriend down on Fairfield Street behind Piccadilly railway station and he didn’t want his car recognised. Anyway that doesn’t matter. What matters is that Peter has form for burglary and the old bill is on to him,” Steve took another sip of tea.
“One of the other minicab drivers told the detectives that Peter had taken to frequenting the Black Sheep public house and they knocked up the publican in the early hours and he confirmed that Peter was there around ten o’clock and was seen to be in the company of a woman matching your description,” Steve took Lilly’s hand and looked at her meaningfully.
“The burglary squad are searching Peter’s house and his lockup right now but I know they won’t find anything, Peter isn’t that stupid,” Steve squeezed Lilly’s hand gently.
“I hope so. Peter was pretty drunk yesterday so I hope he didn’t slip up,” Lilly was genuinely concerned.
“The thing is Caroline’s logs also listed an entry for one of her drivers picking you in a green Vauxhall Viva and dropping you off at the Black Sheep around sixish. We are checking all the cab companies for fares going to and from the Black Sheep last night and interviewing all of them. I told the boss that I would investigate the Smith Street address so that’s why I’m here,” Peter breathed deeply.
“I’m supposed to interview you and search your house for any of the missing jewellery,” Peter smiled wanly at Lilly.
“Don’t worry, you are one of many leads that the squad are following up on but you can see how seriously the Chief Constable is taking this crime,” Steve said.
“So you're going to pretend to interview me and search my house and report that I had nothing to do with the crime,” Lilly replied hopefully.
“Exactly. Then I need to get hold of Peter and let him know that the burglary squad is onto him and to make sure that he has taken the necessary precautions not to be linked to the theft. I’ll report that you said that Peter went straight to the Black Sheep after dropping Jimmy Fothergill off at Fairfield Street and that he was with you all evening. You won’t have to go down to the nick, I’ll write up your statement here,” Steve smiled at Lilly reassuringly.
“So are you going to ‘take down my particulars’, detective constable?” Lilly grinned at him licentiously.
Steve understood the double entendre immediately and took off his jacket and sidled up to Lilly.
“Well I need to be here long enough to establish that I’ve searched your premises and taken your statement which of course entails that I take down your particulars,” Steve slid his hand inside Lilly’s wrap housedress and tugged at the waistband her knickers.
Lilly kissed him and slid her tongue into his mouth and Steve stroked the front of her knickers. Lilly hadn't tucked because she was expecting to be home alone and her cock sprang to attention, tenting her tights and knickers. Steve closed his hand around the protuberance and stroked it, softly rubbing the nylon and satin of her undergarments against her sensitive organ.
Lilly reciprocated and unzipped Steve’s jeans and freed his sturdy member. She massaged it as they kissed; their passion building as they masturbated each other. Lilly allowed Steve to open her wrap dress giving him full access to her body. He moved his lips across her cheeks and nibbled Lilly’s earlobe briefly before moving on to kiss, lick and nuzzle her neck, inhaling her perfume and then his mouth continued its journey down to her clavicle where he explored the creamy flesh in the hollow notch.
Lilly closed her eyes and savoured the sensation of Steve’s mouth and tongue exploring her upper body. It had been a while since she had been so tenderly and lovingly explored. Peter’s ministrations had become increasingly centred on Lilly sucking his cock or just pounding away at her arse with minimal foreplay.
She tugged at his trousers and Steve took the hint and unbuckled his belt and dropped trou, shucking his trousers down around his ankles along with his underpants. He tore off his shirt and tossed it next to his jacket on the floor. Lilly’s hand returned to his bloated organ and stroked it gently, kneading a globule of pre-ejaculate from the eye which she massaged into his firm, silky flesh.
Steve continued his journey down Lilly’s body, pausing to suck, nip and lick her nipples until they became hard and sensitive, like ripe berries. Her breasts might have been pitifully small but they were tender and responsive to his touch. Her nipples hardened and warm ripples of delight radiated from them and coalesced with the intense sensations issuing from her cock which Steve was still stroking, gliding the satiny fabric of her tights and knickers across the throbbing shaft.
He lowered Lilly onto the sofa and climbed between her legs and instinctively she wrapped them around him, fretting her legs against his flesh and feeling him shudder as she did so. His mouth returned to hers and he kissed her again, softly at first but his ardour had been ignited and he pressed his penis against Lilly, thrusting it against her engorged cock, slipping it inside the leghole of her knickers so that it was enshrouded in her satin knickers whilst rubbing the base of it against her tights which were now damp with her secretions.
Lilly slipped her tongue into Steve’s mouth and held him tight, pressing her groin against his to maximise their pleasure as her legs continued to glide across his flanks, her high heels chafing his back, encouraging him to rut against her. She snaked a hand between their bodies and guided the head of Steve’s cock into the valley between her buttocks where she used a long fingernail to tear open a little hole in her tights and nestled Steve’s glans against her puckered bud.
“Be gentle, I’m a little sore,” Lilly gasped.
Lilly’s rectum was still tender from the battering it had taken yesterday but she yearned to feel Steve inside her and she encouraged him, lifting her buttocks up off the cushions to facilitate access to her pink, furrowed entrance. She had douched after her morning toilet and squeezed lubricant into her bruised anus, anticipating that Peter might press himself on her as soon as he awoke, which he liked to do most mornings.
This morning Peter had been too hungover and excited about getting rid of the stolen loot to bother with sex but Lilly was glad that she had prepared herself because it eased the passage of Steve’s stout manhood as it slid inside her. She winced as Steve’s cock invaded her tight, spongy tunnel. Steve felt her flinch and he stopped.
“I can take it out if I’m hurting you,” Steve gazed lovingly into her expressive green eyes and studied her pretty face looking for any sign that he was hurting her.
“Don’t you dare! Just take it easy darling,” Lilly scissored her legs against his body and kissed him deeply.
Steve just lay still on top of Lilly, kissing her, caressing her, ensuring that his belly pressed against her engorged rampant penis still trapped inside her knickers and tights. Lilly loved him for it. He was being a considerate lover, ensuring that Lilly received the pleasure she deserved whilst minimising any discomfort she might feel.
It was just as well that Lilly wanted him to be gentle because even though Steve had fucked her twice yesterday evening, his cock was still on a hair-trigger and close to climaxing. Lilly was just so beautiful, feminine and sexy and she had a way of presenting herself that ignited his desires. He adored that she always wore full makeup, her luscious lips enhanced by her red lipstick, her emerald-green eyes elevated like jewels by her smoky eye-makeup, her body swathed in tight seductive clothing, her legs swathed in diaphanous nylons, her pubis always shrouded in silky-satin undergarments. Her breath was always sweet; her body diffused the seductive essence of Dior Poison perfume which she habitually wore.
Lilly’s visage always caused Steve to desire her as soon as he laid eyes on her and the feel of her body enflamed his desires but it was not just her beauty that enamoured him. It was her grace, her vulnerability, her intellect and her elegance that bewitched and captivated him. He could never for a second imagine that he would fall for someone like Lilly Millington, yet he was besotted with her; impressions of her intruded into his thoughts at the most unexpected times.
He kissed her softly, his cock coddled by her tight velvet passage, his flesh alive with the sensations of her silky nylons as she leisurely scissored her legs against his haunches, her lips soft and yielding. Ringlets of pleasure radiated from his throbbing cock as her anus undulated against his encapsulated manhood.
Lilly adored having Steve lie on top of her, kissing her, caressing her, his body pressing against hers, his hard belly compressed against her aching cock, inciting her desires, his penis buried deep in her anus evoking warmth and pleasure from a vessel that had been so viciously battered by the man she was beginning to despise. But Lilly banished any thoughts of Peter from her mind and supplicated herself to the man she was starting to adore.
They lay like that, hardly moving, enjoying every scintilla of their union until Steve could not hold back extremis any longer.
“I’m going to cum,” Steve whispered and Lilly held him close, wrapping her arms and legs around him, kissing him with deep passion as she felt his cock begin to judder.
Lilly could feel Steve’s phallus engorge to full tumescence and suddenly it trembled and quaked as it disgorged his essence inside her. Her anus lit-up with a delectable glow that spread through her whole body as her orgasm blossomed. She flooded her knickers with her seed, Steve’s flat belly grinding the gossamer fabric of her knickers and tights into the sensitive organ. Steve felt Lilly’s anus ripple and undulate as she milked him of his creamy milt. He felt her cock juddering against his belly and the warm, lubricious secretions soak through her knickers, the piquant stench of her semen assailed his nostrils.
They lay in the comfort of each other’s arms, neither of them wanting to break the warm embrace, both of them basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, both scared to say anything that might ruin the perfect exquisiteness of the moment.
Lilly finally spoke.
“Well detective constable, you didn’t exactly take down my particulars but you found yourself inside them well enough,” Lilly tried to make light of the moment.
“Well young lady, I think you might have been culpable in tempting me to do so. In fact I think you are duplicitous,” Steve also used humour to mask his real feelings.
“I’m hardly young and whether or not I am a lady is up for debate in some circles,” Lilly used self-deprecation to mask what she was feeling too.
A look of concern clouded Steve’s countenance which quickly turned to an expression of adoration.
“Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that Lilly, not even in jest. You are a beautiful woman. An exquisite example of perfection and I adore you. I cherish you for your uniqueness,” Steve stared meaningfully into Lilly’s eyes.
“Don’t be silly,” Lilly tried her best to lighten the tension but her heart soared at Steve’s revelation.
“I love you Lilly. I know that sounds trite and premature but I can only tell you how I feel,” Steve whispered.
Lilly’s eyes flooded with tears and she looked up at Steve with adoration.
“I never thought it possible that someone like you could love me and that I could love them in return but you complete me Steve. When I’m with you I’m happier than I have ever been in my life. I know that what I am complicates things and I will understand if we can be nothing other than secret lovers but I would be content with that. I would be content with any arrangement that allows me to spend any amount of time with you,” Lilly smiled up at him.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves shall we. We both have things to do if we are to make this work,” Steve kissed Lilly on the nose affectionately.
There followed the awkward necessity to disengage and Steve eased his shrinking penis from Lilly’s tight rectum. His semen dribbled from her opening, comingling with the cloying mess of her own secretions and she held her dress away from her saturated undergarments as Steve extricated himself from her embrace. He turned politely away from Lilly while she took off her heels and padded away, her wrap held open so as not to become stained. Steve put on his shirt and buttoned it and then pulled up his trousers and buckled his belt. Lilly climbed the stairs to her bedroom where she took off her semen-sodden undergarments and perfunctorily cleaned her pubic regions before slipping into fresh tights and knickers.
After closing her wrap housedress and fixing her makeup she came downstairs walking in stocking feet back to the sofa where she slipped on her heels.
“How the fuck do you manage to look like a goddess after what we have just done to each other on your sofa,” Steve smiled and wrapped his hands around her waist.
“Shut up,” Lilly giggled and Steve kissed her softly and led her to the kitchen table where he took out his notebook.
“I’ll write your statement while you make the tea,” Steve said, sitting down on a wooden chair and starting to write.
“What is it about Englishmen and tea?” Lilly laughed as she retrieved the teapot and cups and saucers from the lounge and brought them to the kitchen.
“The entire British empire was built on cups of tea,” Steve replied, blithely unaware that he was making a quote from a movie that had not yet been made.
Lilly just smiled, made tea and brought two cups over to the kitchen table and sat across from Steve. When she passed him his cup he suddenly baulked and snatched at her hand.
“Where the fuck did you get that?” Steve tugged at the diamond ring on Lilly’s finger.
“Peter gave it to me this morning,” Lilly replied, letting Steve wriggle the ring from her finger.
“Jesus Christ Lilly, Peter really is losing it. That’s part of the haul from Jimmy Fothergill's manor in Trafford. If you’re found wearing that ring they will likely bang you up along with Peter,” Steve studied the ring and then put it in the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Well you keep it. To be honest I never wanted it but I’m so scared of upsetting Peter lately that I just kept it,” Lilly explained.
Steve contemplated the ring that seemed to radiate evil warmth from deep in his pocket and he considered what Lilly had just said about being scared of Peter Simpson. He scribbled something in his police notebook then closed it, put it away and looked at Lilly again. How had he become besotted with this woman? Not for instant did he think of Lester Millington; he thought only of her as Lilly and the dilemma she faced and the predicament that he was in.
He was in love with a beautiful, caring transvestite who was the chattel of a vicious thug who effectively held her prisoner. Steve knew that he wasn’t much better than Peter Simpson. He was a corrupt cop who was also using Lilly for his own criminal endeavours but at least he wasn’t abusing her. He thought about the conversation they had had yesterday about how Peter was abusing her and of the bruises he had seen on her creamy white flesh.
“I have to go Lilly but I want to come back. Peter won’t be back from London until tomorrow so we can be together again tonight,” Steve took Lilly’s hand in his and kissed it.
“I would love that Steve. Is there anything in particular you want me to wear?” Lilly was thinking that Steve would want her dressed in sexy lingerie for an evening of lovemaking.
“Do you have a nice evening dress or something similar?” Steve smiled at her.
“Yes I bought one a couple of weeks ago but it’s too fancy to wear to the Black Sheep, which is the only place I go, so I haven’t worn it yet,” Lilly returned the smile.
She understood that Steve wanted her dressed nice so he could unwrap her like a present before they went to bed and had sex.
“I’ll cook us a nice Sunday dinner,” Lilly offered.
“Don’t bother. I’ll bring something. Be ready at seven,” Steve replied.
‘Just what I need; a takeaway Indian, Chinky or even worse, fish and chips,’ Lilly was a little disappointed that she was going to get all dressed up only to eat takeaway food but it didn’t matter. She was going to see Steve again tonight and that’s all that mattered. She couldn’t believe that she felt this way about him and that they had both spoken of love, as if it was something that either of them could actually experience, given what she was.
She escorted Steve to the door and they kissed, neither of them wanting Steve to leave but he had work to do.
“See you tonight. I can’t wait to see you in your nice dress,” Steve finally released Lilly from his tight embrace and kissed her softly farewell.
Steve worked the Fothergill case for the rest of the day. He met with the DI from the burglary squad and reported that he had located the woman that the publican had said had been in the company of Peter Simpson last night at the Black Sheep and handed him the statement he had taken from her.
“This Millington woman didn’t meet Simpson until around ten o'clock. That isn’t anything close to an alibi,” the Detective Inspector grumbled as he read the statement.
“That’s right sir. She met Peter Simpson at the Black Sheep and he drank with her and her friends until the pub closed and then he left the pub with her. She didn’t want to say too much but I am surmising they had a little slap and tickle in his minicab and then he dropped her home. She let me search her gaff but I didn’t find anything suspicious,” Steve elaborated on the half-truth he had written in the statement on which he had forged Lilly’s signature.
*****
Lilly fussed around the house all day doing busywork unable to take her mind off her impending meeting with Steve Vogel that evening. She was excited about seeing him again and delighted that they would actually be able to have dinner together before they went to bed. Steve would be able to spend the night and they would make love in a proper bed for once. Her bed.
With plenty of time to spare Lilly carried out the necessary functions that a ‘special lady’ like herself needed to perform prior to penetrative sex and then she showered, put on a robe and sat at her vanity. She wanted to look her best for Steve tonight and she considered which of her wigs to wear and then decided she would wear her own hair. She fussed with her blunt-cut feathered bob and used some product and a hairdryer to elevate it and give it body until she had it looking perfect. The blonde highlights in her tawny-brown bob looked stylish and modern.
The bob framed her face perfectly as she applied her makeup, a little heavier and seductive for the evening. She wanted to wear stockings and suspenders but the red satin evening gown clung to every curve of her body and was split on one side. Garters and clasps would ruin the lines of the dress so she opened another package of Pretty Polly nude, shimmery, ten-denier sheer-to-the-waist tights. She pushed her testes into her inguinal canals and carefully tucked her genitals so they wouldn’t spoil the silhouette of her dress. She shimmied into a pair of red seamless lycra panties that she had purchased especially to be worn under the dress.
She had bought the matching strapless brassier and she stuffed her silicon breastforms into the cups to give her some shape. Lilly put on the red satin sheath dress and stepped into her high heels and looked at herself in the mirror and was delighted with what she saw.
So was Steve Vogel when he came to her front door carrying a bouquet of flowers. He handed Lilly the flowers and made her stand under the hallway light so he could take in her beauty.
“You look elegant and gorgeous,” Steve kissed her cheek so as not to spoil her lipstick although he really wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her passionately and do unspeakable things to her.
But that could wait. What was the saying? The best things in life are worth waiting for?
“You look quite elegant yourself,” Lilly commented.
Steve was wearing a black evening suit and his hair was carefully combed and his aftershave smelled of something musky and woodsy.
“Where is the food?” Lilly asked, a little disappointed because Steve had told her that he would be bringing dinner.
“Your chariot awaits, Madame,” Steve made an elaborate bow.
“The Black Sheep isn’t open on Sundays,” Lilly was confused.
“We aren’t going to the Black Sheep. We are going out to dinner,” Steve smiled at her but Lilly paled.
“I can’t Steve. I’ll be clocked and you will be embarrassed and I will be devastated,” Lilly baulked.
“Have you seen yourself? No one is going to clock you. You look exactly like the beautiful vivacious woman you are. And even if the impossible happened and you were clocked, who cares. Certainly not me. I am not ashamed of you. I told you that I love you and I wasn’t lying. Now go and find a clutch to match that amazing dress and let us go forth and let the world behold Lilly Millington in all her glory,” Steve gave Lilly a brilliant smile and Lilly reluctantly complied.
Lilly was nervous and expressed her concerns to Steve in the car but she was also excited. Except for her sojourns with Peter down to the Black Sheep Lilly had never been out in public. She was a little relieved that the restaurant was on the other side of Manchester so when the inevitable happened and she was outed and humiliated, no one from her neighbourhood would know about it.
“Everyone is staring at me,” Lilly clung to Steve as the maître d'hôtel led them to their table.
“Of course they are darling. They are staring at you because you are the most beautiful woman in the restaurant,” Steve reassured her.
Lilly was relieved that their table was located in a quiet corner of the establishment and once they were seated people stopped staring at her.
“I’m so fucking nervous,” Lilly whispered in Steve’s ear.
Steve nuzzled her ear and kissed her quickly on the lips.
“Settle back and enjoy the evening,” Steve replied, studying the wine list.
After an aperitif and the entrée Lilly began to feel comfortable. Her nervousness dissipated and she enjoyed Steve’s company and being out on the town for the first time. She hadn't been clocked. She hadn't been embarrassed. She hadn't made a fool of herself. Lilly began to accept that the other patrons thought of her as nothing more than a woman dining with her beau, albeit a very attractive woman.
The food was fancy and the wine was delicious, a far cry from the stodgy English nosh that she and Peter ate at home. Lilly thought that she could get used to this. Then, after the main course, the inevitable happened and Lilly felt the need to use the toilet.
“Steve, I need to use the loo,” Lilly whispered, her voice panicky.
“Well just go,” Steve smiled back at her reassuringly.
“But I’ll have to use the ladies,” Lilly squeezed his arm desperately.
“You use the ladies at the pub so what’s the difference?” Steve smiled at her, trying to calm her.
“But this place is posh and the loo is on the other side or the restaurant; everyone will look at me and I’m sure I’ll be clocked,” Lilly’s dubiety had returned.
“Look, I need a slash myself. I’ll escort you to the toilets. I’ll use the men's and you use the ladies. I’ll wait for you outside and escort you back to the table,” Steve said and Lilly smiled at him.
He always knew how to solve her problems, even something as daft as going to the toilet in a posh restaurant.
Lilly felt a little trepidatious. She clutched Steve’s arm and clenched her clutch-purse as they weaved their way between the tables. She felt like all eyes were on her but what she didn’t realise was that there were indeed quite a few eyes on her. Those eyes belonged to men who ogled her long legs as the split in her gown opened and closed as she walked towards them and then leered at her trim bottom encased in the satin garment as she passed by.
A few of those men were kicked under the table by their wives and partners, the women jealous of Lilly.
The ladies loo was nothing like the ‘bogs’ in the Black Sheep. It was clean and well-lit and smelled of flowers. The sinks and fixtures gleamed under the brilliant white light and the long mirror behind the vanity counter was spotless. Lilly entered the cubicle farthest from the door and breathed a sigh of relief and then she had to deal with the indelicacy, as all women did in this situation, of lowering her knickers and tights whilst trying to keep the hem of her gown off the floor.
As she sat tinkling into the bowl she heard two women pause in front of the mirror to check their makeup.
“Did you see that bitch in the red dress weave her way through the tables like she was Julie Christie or something?” one of the women said.
“Yes I did and so did my Harold. He couldn’t take his eyes off her arse. I clipped him across the ear after she had walked past,” her friend commented.
“My Derek had the cheek to ask me why I didn’t dress like that when we went out. He’ll be lucky if I let him sniff my knickers tonight when we get home,” the first woman laughed raucously.
“I’ll give her, her due. She does look stunning,” the other woman admitted.
“And what about that hunk escorting her? He can sniff my knickers any time he likes, providing he takes them off me and gives me a good shagging first,” both women laughed vociferously.
Lilly waited until the women left the facilities then she patted herself dry, flushed, stood up and pulled up her tights and tucked her genitals, then pulled up her knickers. She left the cubicle and adjusted her dress in front of the mirror where she checked her makeup and washed her hands. She found Steve waiting for her outside and he escorted Lilly back to their table. This time she strode confidently and even kissed Steve on the cheek as they passed the table where the two gossips were sitting with their husbands.
*****
That evening Steve took his time undressing Lilly. As much as he would have loved to have fucked Lilly while she was still wearing the satin sheath, he took great pleasure in peeling her out of it. He was already naked, his cock rampant. When he had Lilly stripped down to her hose, knickers and heels he lowered her onto the bed and lay down beside her. They kissed softly at first, letting their ardour blossom, then they reached for each other. Lilly took Steve’s firm rod in her hand and caressed it while she kissed him fervently, he rubbed her cock through her knickers and tights, just how he knew she liked it.
When they were both close to extremis Steve quickly flipped himself top-to-tail with her and Lilly took him in her mouth and began to suckle him, swallowing the salty precum that leaked in rivulets from his penis. Steve tore a hole in Lillie's tights and prised her bloated penis through it and eased aside the gusset of her red seamless lycra panties and swallowed her cock.
It was a first for him and it was an interesting experiment. He felt Lilly working her tongue on his fraenulum and glans and he mimicked her actions and was rewarded when Lilly’s body shuddered and she mewed with delight as she responded to his ministrations. But fellatio was only the entrée. Steve enlarged the hole in her tights and slipped a finger into Lilly’s anus and she squealed jubilantly, spitting out his cock.
He took the initiative and threw Lilly on her back and mounted her, putting her ankles over his shoulder and thrusting his engorged cock inside her tight slick anus. It took only three thrusts before Lilly’s panties were soaked through with her spunk. He watched her face, her eyes screwed shut and her features distorted with ecstasy as she orgasmed then he lowered his face to hers and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and filled her tight passage with his issue. He felt her anus contract around his cock, milking him of every drop.
They spent the night in Lilly’s bed but didn’t get much sleep. Steve left early because Lilly had to work and he had no desire to see Lester.
Lester took Steve’s five thousand pounds to work in his briefcase and opened another account in a fictitious name. It took him most of the morning to set up the elaborate, almost untraceable procedure whereby a small amount of certain large investors interest trickled into the account.
Lester spent the rest of the day conducting legitimate banking business before he went home and transformed into Lilly.
Peter arrived at Lilly’s little house on Smith Street at seven in the evening and Lilly sensed that he was agitated. She was dressed in the same burgundy nylon full-slip under the black satin V-neck housecoat that she worn when Steve made his surprise visit only yesterday. In anticipation that Peter would want sex she wore black seamed stockings, red satin knickers and heels, her makeup heavy, her hair coiffed just how she knew Peter liked it.
But after a perfunctory kiss and cuddle Peter turned on the evening news and settled down on the sofa. He stared at the television with the volume turned low, waiting to see if there was any news about the robbery in Trafford on Saturday evening.
“How did things go in London?” Lilly called from the kitchen where she was pouring two gin and tonics.
“Smiley and I did ok. John knocked up a jeweller in Hatton Garden who was none too pleased to be disturbed on a Sunday but when he saw what we had to offer the greedy bugger took the lot and gave us a half-decent price,” Peter lit a cigarette.
“I had to split the profits with John Smiley but I’ve still got nice little earner for you to deposit in my account,” Peter threw an envelope stuffed with cash on the coffee table.
Lilly returned with the drinks and sat down beside him.
“We celebrated in a club in Soho and then we went to a flash knocking shop. It was nice to fuck a woman with a real cunt for a change,” Peter smiled at Lilly maliciously.
Lilly flinched at the insult but took it in stride. She had not exactly been a model of decorum while Peter was away.
“I stopped by Caroline’s Cabs and she told me that the old bill have been around checking up on me. Then when I went home I found out that the coppers had searched my house looking for the jewellery stolen from Jimmy Fothergill’s,” Peter swallowed half of his drink and glared at Lilly.
“Oh?” Lilly feigned surprise.
“Don’t give me oh. I know that Steve Vogel is on the case. Has he been around here?” Peter growled.
Lilly decided that telling a half-truth was better than trying to lie.
“He came around yesterday looking for you. The publican at the Black Sheep told the coppers that you were with me on Saturday night so he thought it best that he be the one who checked your alibi. You know that Crystal and Richard will back your alibi, that is if the coppers can find out who they are and where they live,” Lilly tried her best to be supportive.
“So Vogel was around here yesterday?” Peter glowered.
“The police have had a fire lit under their arses by the Chief Constable, Peter. Apparently that Jimmy Fothergill bloke is tight with him. Steve is doing his best to keep them off your trail,” Lilly said reassuringly.
“You seem to know a lot about the whole shemozzle,” Peter downed the remainder of his drink and waved his glass at Lilly, demanding a refill.
“Steve told me everything he knows about the case. The old bill are looking for you. They want to question you. I gave Steve a statement verifying that you were with me on Saturday night,” Lilly called from the kitchen as she refilled Peter’s glass.
She came back into the lounge room and handed Peter his drink.
“But it isn’t an alibi really, is it Lilly? The logs at Caroline’s will confirm that I picked up Jimmy Fothergill from his gaff and you, the publican and your tranny girlfriend can only vouch for me after the robbery took place. What else did Steve tell you?” Peter glared at her.
“He’s doing his best to protect you Peter. He says that you should lay low for a while until the heat dies down. Without the loot to tie you to the crime it’s all speculation, provided that you didn’t leave any evidence at Jimmy’s house,” Lilly took a sip of her drink and Peter studied her carefully.
He suddenly remembered that he had given Lilly the ring he had stolen from Jimmy Fothergill’s house and noticed that she wasn’t wearing it.
“Where’s the fucking ring?” Peter snatched at Lilly’s wrist and twisted her hand cruelly.
“Steve took it. He recognised it from the description of the jewellery that the police are circulating and realised that it was incriminating,” Lilly tried to snatch her hand back but Peter held onto her wrist with a vice-like grip.
“How long was he around here? I saw the way he’s been looking at you. Did you have to give him your arse as part of the deal? Did you suck his cock right here on this sofa?” Peter’s face was livid with jealousy.
“You know that you are the only man that I have ever been with Peter. Steve is just trying to protect you,” Lilly tried to reason with him, even though she was caught in a lie.
“Bullshit! He just wants to make sure he gets his cut. He takes my money and now he wants to take my girl,” Peter stewed but he finally let go of Lilly’s wrist.
“Except you aren’t really a girl are you Lilly? You’re just like the other tranny tarts at the Black Sheep. You would be nothing without me, just some pathetic crossdresser wanking off in her knickers or bent over in one of the cut-outs along the canal,” Peter smiled wickedly.
“You know that’s not what I am Peter. Why are you treating me like this?” Lilly stood up and glared at Peter indignantly.
“Because I can Lilly. Because that's what you really are, isn’t it? You're my little tranny fuckpuppet who looks after my money and bends over when I need a shag,” Peter stood up and towered over Lilly.
“Why are you talking to me like this Peter? I’ve done nothing but be kind to you. I’ve given you everything you asked for and more,” Lilly felt very vulnerable and started to cry.
“I bet you gave Steve everything he asked for too, including my ring. Well I will get that sorted. I want that ring back but first get your arse upstairs, I’m going to fuck some sense into you,” Peter kicked the coffee table out of the way and lunged for her.
Lilly bolted for the stairs intending to lock herself in her bedroom until Peter had calmed down but in her high heels she was no match for Peter even though he was drunk. He caught her on the landing and dragged Lilly kicking and screaming into the bedroom.
She tried to turn away from him when he tried to kiss her but Peter gripped her neck in a vice-like grip while he slobbered at her, forcing his tongue into her mouth. He held her one handed by the throat while he unbuckled his trousers and tore off her housecoat.
He threw Lilly on the bed and held her down, tying her wrists to bedposts with a pair of her tights that had been hanging over the bedhead.
What followed was unmerciful. He left Lilly sobbing on the bed, her knickers torn, her stockings laddered and her face a mess. Peter’s semen matted her hair and ran in rivulets down her face, ruining her makeup. Her anus was clotted with his jism. Peter might have been drunk but anger had fuelled his lust and he had taken her repeatedly and brutally, both orally and anally.
When he was finished he untied Lilly and left her cringing on the bed, curled up in a ball.
“I’m going down the pub. When I get back you better have cleaned yourself up and be waiting for me. I haven’t finished with you yet,” Peter stormed out of the bedroom leaving Lilly sobbing.
He snatched up the envelope filled with cash and stormed out the door.
Lilly crept gingerly off the bed and made her way to the bathroom. She showered and washed away the filth that Peter had left on her body and inside her. She looked at herself in the mirror. There were dark bruises on her neck and wrists and her lips were swollen. She put on her makeup and fixed her hair, trying her best to make herself look decent. As she did so her loathing and fear turned to anger.
She went back to the bedroom and disposed of the clothes she had been wearing when Peter ravished her and put on clean tights, knickers and her housecoat. She picked up her heels and padded downstairs and poured herself a double gin and tonic and lit a cigarette.
Lilly set her resolve and went to the phone. She dialled the number for Steve Vogel’s lockup. He answered on the third ring and she broke down over the phone and told Steve that she desperately needed his help.
“Lock the door and don’t answer it for anyone. I’m on my way,” the anger and compassion in Steve’s voice carried across the telephone wires.
When Steve arrived he was shocked to see the state of Lilly, despite her best efforts her makeup could not disguise the battering she had taken. He held her in his arms and let her cry herself dry and then he led her to sofa and put a comforter around her. He poured Lilly a double scotch and sat silently holding her hand, waiting for her to tell him what had happened. Lilly told Steve everything that had happened to her, leaving out not a single detail.
“I’m going to fix this Lilly,” Steve whispered.
He kissed the back of her hand softly and lovingly.
“I can’t live like this anymore Steve,” Lilly implored him.
“I told you that I’m going to fix it. Do not answer the door tonight unless it’s me. I’m going to be gone a little while but I’ll be back,” Steve leaned over his little angel and kissed her on the forehead and then he left.
Steve found Peter Simpson’s Ford Cortina parked outside the King’s Head public house. He peeked through one of the curbside windows of the pub and saw Peter propped at the bar, a double scotch and a pint of Boddingtons in front of him. He was chatting up the barmaid and seemed settled in for the evening.
Steve took a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and checking that the street was clear he walked over to Peter’s car and took out the slim-Jim he had secreted inside his jacket. He slipped the hooked end of the tool between the passenger door window and the rubber seal, catching the rods that connect to the lock mechanism. He opened the door and took the diamond ring that he had taken from Lilly’s finger and pushed it down the gap in the back seat cushion.
Steve locked the car and ditched the gloves down the drain and returned to his own vehicle and tossed the slim-Jim in the boot. He walked to the corner phone box and dialled a number he knew by heart.
“This is Detective Constable Steve Vogel of the Serious Crime Division, put me through to Detective Inspector Steve Roach please,” Steve breathed into the phone.
Peter Simpson left the King’s Head two hours later and walked unsteadily to his car. His brain was befuddled by alcohol but he knew what he was going to do. He was going back around to Lilly’s house and teach that little tranny harlot another lesson and then tomorrow he was going to track down Steve Vogel and demand the ring back and give it to John Smiley for him to fence.
Peter made it as far as the corner before he was boxed in by two police cars. The constables in the panda car arrested Peter Simpson on suspicion of drunk driving while two members of the burglary squad exited the unmarked police car and searched Peter’s Cortina.
They found the ring stuffed down behind the back seat and assumed that Peter had unknowingly lost the ring there when he tossed the loot from the Trafford burglary in the back of his car. The envelope filled with cash was found on the inside pocket of his jacket.
During questioning Peter Simpson told an unlikely story that Detective Constable Steve Vogel was a bent copper who had been taking a percentage of everything that Peter stole and offered to grass Steve up for a reduced sentence. Steve’s bank accounts were thoroughly investigated by the Internal Investigation Squad and his house was searched. Nothing suspicious was found. Steve’s lockup was leased under a false name and was never searched. Peter didn’t even know that Steve had a lockup.
John Smiley was arrested and charged with being an accessory after the fact to burglary and disposing of stolen property. He spilled the beans about the Trafford jewellery robbery when he was offered a reduced sentence and said that he didn’t know a copper named Steve Vogel, which he didn’t.
Peter was identified in a line-up by several members of the public as the minicab driver who had picked them at their residences prior to their houses being burgled and the log books taken into evidence from Caroline’s Cabs supported their claims.
Peter saw the writing on the wall and knew that he was going down for burglary and considered taking Lester ‘Lilly’ Millington down with him but then it would become public knowledge that Peter had a long-term relationship with a Canal Street Molly. While awaiting trial he was visited in his cell at Strangeways prison by one of Bolton brothers who was doing a seven years stretch for armed robbery. The thug advised Peter that it would be in his best interests to withdraw his allegations against Detective Constable Vogel and keep schtum about Lester Millington or his years of incarceration would be very difficult and very painful. Accidents happened in prison all the time.
By this time the Bolton brothers had a considerable amount of money hidden away in an investment account that was managed on their behalf by a mousy little man named Lester Millington.
Peter withdrew his statement regarding Steve Vogel and accepted a plea bargain, admitting to the Trafford jewel theft and several other burglaries. He would be inside looking out for several years.
Oxford Canal – Five Years Later
“Have I told you how much I love your new tits?” Steve Vogel was snuggled up to Lilly Millington in the berth of their narrowboat which was tied up alongside a grassy bank just outside the city of Bath.
Lilly had legally changed her name and gender identity two years earlier. Prior to that she had lived a double life presenting herself as Lester Millington during the working day and living as Lilly in the evenings and on weekends. When Lilly had accrued sufficient funds from the shadowy investment accounts she managed at the First Bank of Manchester to live comfortably for the rest of her life she had transferred to the money into an account in her new name and quit her job.
Steve had made DI before he finally quit the Greater Manchester Police and liquidated everything he had and put it the same account as Lilly. Lilly had some gender reassignment surgery performed by a Harley Street specialist but had declined the offer of ‘bottom surgery’. Both she had Steve were happy with the results and content with their lives.
Lilly had recently had her breast implants replaced with newer, safer silicon prosthetics which incorporated elastomer-coated shells. Steve had begged Lilly to ‘go bigger’ and she now had perfect set of C-cup breasts tethered to her petite torso.
Steve lapped at her milky-white breasts, deliberately avoiding Lilly’s nipples which were swollen like ripe berries against her alabaster skin.
“Suck them you teaser!” Lilly guided Steve’s mouth to a succulent nipple and he suckled on it while he lazily stroked Lilly’s leaking glans which poked above the waistband of her white satin knickers.
Her lips pursed into the pouty moue and she hissed when Steve nipped her sensitive teat. Steve freed Lilly’s cock from her knickers, bunching the panties below her shaved scrotal sac. Her shaft was glazed with pre-ejaculate and pulsed in Steve’s fingers when he stroked it.
Lilly was dressed for sex, not for bed. Her makeup was heavy, her lips painted cherry-red. She had grown out her hair and it cascaded down her slim shoulders and tickled the small of her back as she arched and writhed on the bed. Besides the white satin knickers she was wearing a matching suspender belt clipped to shimmery flesh-toned Wolford stockings, fully-fashioned and delicately sheer. She wore four-inch high heels that served no practical purpose other than to make her look sexy.
Steve put his mouth to her other breast and gave it the same treatment, feeling her nipple swell as he teased it with his tongue and lightly pecked at it with his teeth. Lilly had her hand between Steve’s legs, softly stroking his scrotum, her wrist occasionally grazing his steely phallus. She too was deliberately teasing the man she loved, knowing that he yearned for her to take him in her hand.
“I love you Lilly Millington,” Steve smiled at her from between her breasts.
“Then kiss me and prove it,” Lilly squeezed his cock, encouraging him.
Steve jammed a pillow under the small of Lilly’s back and she dutifully wrapped her gossamer-sheathed legs around his torso when he lay between them and kissed her with such passion that she thought she might faint. His tongue explored her mouth and his sturdy prong nestled in her furrowed sphincter. She gasped as Steve’s glans pierced her tight sphincteric ring.
Lilly wriggled her bottom and chafed her legs against Steve’s flanks, encouraging him, goading him, needing him. She sighed around his impassioned kisses as he slid the full length of his manhood inside her. Steve lay still, expressing every scintilla of pleasure from Lilly’s body. He kissed and caressed her nipples, then her mouth, then her nipples again. He felt her cock pressing into his belly, dribbling an incessant cascade of pre-ejaculate. He felt her shimmery nylons softly scour his skin. He felt her anus contract and dilate around his engorged manhood.
Lilly gnashed her high-heels against the hollow of his back. She was ready and so was he.
He kissed her with abandonment as he began to slide his quivering cock in and out of her tight channel. The girth of his phallus igniting the little pleasure centres ringing her sphincter and flowerets of intense pleasure radiated from the tender flesh that girdled the entrance to her moistened channel. Lilly felt his glans pressing on her prostate every time his swollen appendage thrust into her and deep resonating ripples of desire radiated from the tender node.
Lilly began to shake beneath him and Steve sensed her rapture peaking and he increased the tempo, slamming his cock in and out of her anus which clutched at his throbbing manhood like a velvet glove, kneading it, squeezing it, milking it. He let out a groan and his whole body quivered as he expressed his issue deep inside the woman he loved.
Lilly felt Steve climax and she threw back her head and squealed as the pleasure receptors in her anus lit up and her orgasm ignited, sending waves of pleasure which wracked her whole body. Steve felt Lilly’s cock vacillating against his belly and then the slick warmth of her hot, creamy milt spattering on his flesh. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her fervently as he drove his adamantine phallus in and out of her snug orifice.
After an eternal interlude during which the lovers held each other close and expressed their adoration for each other with their mouths and their bodies, they finally disentangled their limbs and lay beside each other, staring up at low wooden deckhead of the charming vessel which was now their home. The freedom of the canals emulated the freedom of their souls, their narrowboat taking them wherever they wanted whenever they wanted.
Lilly smiled contentedly and examined the cramped, neat cabin that encapsulated everything they needed. A pristine white wedding gown hung from a coat hook screwed to the clothes locker. A dark morning suit hung from the coat hook beside it. The two gold rings that would bind then together lay in a satin-lined box in a drawer next to the locker. Lilly heard church bells pealing in the distance and she could hardly wait for tomorrow to come.
The End
Author’s Note: As usual dear reader, I welcome any comments or opinions that you care to leave. My stories are written for your enjoyment and I hope that you find this one to your taste.