A Wife's Indulgence

by Zoe, a friend of WannabeGinger's life-long partner and Bride

My husband's now known as Anne. I'm his wife, I'm someone who wants to put our relationship into context, and show how a marriage can grow if both parties develop eachothers' interests and pleasures. I know of My friend's difficulties in her marriage to Ginger, but for me it's been very different and, I hope, you'll agree, much more fortunate.

How did it all begin? The steps towards a marriage where we are a man and a woman, most of the time, and two women when the fancy takes either of us?

Perhaps it was at my instigation — and perhaps it wasn't. Perhaps he wanted it all along…. indeed, I know he did. But then, I must have done too. "They", whoever they are, say that marriages become set in their ways, sexually and in general. They say that some people never get to add spice to their lives. Did we know, when it began, that this was what was going on? Not at all.

We had spiced up our lives in many ways. He had become much more adept in oral love-making than I could have wished; he learned from his ability to "put himself in the other person's place" in business. He was successful. He could easily imagine what a woman like me would wish to have "done" to her. I returned the compliment, though hardly as skilfully. We relish the soixante neuf we indulged so often, and we still do. That would be enough for many couples.

How did what begin, then? My husband's crossdressing. It wasn't really started from his teenage years. Of course, that was the Sixties, when he did experiment, with girly clothes and hair styles. He had long since locked those away as secrets before we married. No, his crossdressing was latent, maybe, but it was no feature of our early married life.

I can remember when the seeds were sewn for the first time. We were talking together in the wonderful warm time after a good long fuck. We had been at it for hours, it seemed. We had made foreplay an art form by this time, coaxing and playing with eachother but stopping short of a climax time and again. Sometimes we ache for release but go on to further, and higher heights of real pleasure.

We were talking, as lovers do, about what we had both enjoyed so much during the time just ended. I purred at the thought of his tongue parting the lips between my thighs; softly and sensually, slowly at times and faster as a rhythm developed…. until I had cum for the fourth, maybe the fifth time. He, by comparison, was still waiting for the first release. I enjoyed it most when, having saved himself for this, and brought me to a time when I couldn't cum again, he pulled himself up and entered my wet and wanting pussy.

He came inside me — which I do always appreciate! - and stayed inside for a while resting upon me as he subsided. He slowly slid down, his face licking the soft spot between my tits, and on and on, his tongue rounding my tummy button……. on his way "south". Soon, he was back in the depths of my Bermuda triangle, as we called it……. (things go in there and may never be seen again!)

He licked and licked as the cum he'd given me slowly slipped away. He brought a face up to meet my own, cum lubricating every inch of his face.. and then my own as we kissed deeply. We laid back together.

How were the seeds of his crossdressing sewn in this moment? Simply, and I don't know what made me suggest it…….. We were quiet, neither speaking for minutes on end. Luxuriating.

"You would taste extra special if you had some lipstick on", I said. Silent......He blushed.

He was silent for several minutes it seemed. His eyes told me that he understood and that it would be true. he would taste better....... But his eyes also showed, for an instant, a trace of his past obsession. He had worn make-up as a teenager.

We were lying in the bed, swathed in a light duvet. The smell of sex was strong in the air.

"There's one on the vanity unit. Go, please, and fetch it."

He didn't move, for a moment or two. He breathed deeply.

"What made you say that?", he whispered. His voice was light, almost joking. He had bought-in to the idea but maybe didn't want to admit it.

"I thought it, so I said it. You smell and taste very sexy………", I said, with equal lightness in my voice, hoping to encourage him.

Crossdressing was never further from my mind. I just knew that it would be incredibly sexy if we both shared a lipstick-laden kiss and, maybe, he would go down on me again wearing that creamy concoction.

He said nothing more, lying still in the bed for another minute or two, breathing more shallowly now. Then he reached over to the vanity unit where all my cosmetics were laid out. I had always worn a lot of make-up having had skin problems myself as a teenager.

The lipstick was an expensive one; a Dior Addiction, long-lasting one. Its case was beautifully sexy too. Our eyes met and stayed fixed upon eachother. He stroked the lipstick gently as he leaned back into the bed. He kissed the case with his lips slightly apart, making a gesture with his eyes that was totally unmistakable. My suggestion had been taken up.

"You first", he said.

Should I do so?, a thought flashed through my mind. What if I did….?

"Oh, no….. my treat is to have you kiss me", I replied.

If his teen years had involved experimenting with clothes and cosmetics, mine were taken up with exploring girl-on-girl experiences. I had been quite a "lipstick lesbian" for a year or two, before we met. So it was right for me if he wore the lipstick.

"Promise you'll kiss me again", he smiled.

"Only if you show me you enjoy it", I teased.

This was the turning point. Indeed, he did show he enjoyed it. He took off the cover of the lipstick slowly, holding the top between finger and thumb. He smelled the stick before slowly twisting the case to have it emerge, a deep burgundy colour with a shaped top. Unused until now.

He smelled the stick again and opened his mouth, lightly touching the top of the colour with his tongue. He was clearly enjoying himself.

He showed me the tip before moving it towards his lips. He had to steady his arms, resting on the bed, in order to get close enough to begin applying the colour to his still cum-laden lips. He licked his lips to remove what had been left behind, making his lips wet again.

"Difficult to apply lipstick to wet lips", I said. "Kiss me first."

He did so, beautifully, lingeringly, and seductively. Making me want more. But then he broke away and the lipstick was at his lips immediately. He made an arching sweep from the centre of his upper lip, first to the left and then to the right. He had obviously watched me do this and, for a man, he did a good job. The outline of his lips was near perfect but there wasn't enough colour.

"More." I whispered.

More indeed, from this moment, he took time to cover his upper lips again and again, leaving the vestiges of a cupid's bow in the centre, before sweeping across his lower lip several times. Each sweep was accompanied by a breathless "mmmmmmm". He was making sure I knew he was enjoying this.

Finally, he licked his lips to let them shine….. No need to apply lipgloss.

He held the lipstick up to me. Gesturing, but saying nothing. Meaning it was my turn. But, no, I wasn't having any of that… not yet. There would be ample time. I just smiled.

"Kiss me, lover." I whispered. "That's what you've earned. You proved you enjoyed that."

We locked together, the taste of his lipstick and the cum blending into a dreamy mist in my head. I had kissed girls before that had done as much for me, but never had the sensation with a man.

He was different. Very different. I was lying in his arms, savouring his kiss and sensing an orgasm rising, even though I hadn't been touched intimately for maybe half an hour. My hand reached down to just help me along that pathway. He continued to kiss me fully on the lips and lipstick smeared across both our faces. I flew into a frenzy for what seemed hours and eventually broke from his embrace. Our lips parted.

He started to move south again but I couldn't bear the thought of cumming again so soon….. "No! No!" I shouted…… "Not because I don't want you to, but please just take me slowly…." My breathing took time to slow. He rested his head on my tits. We laid quietly. Then a lipsticked lip surrounded one of my nipples which remained hard and aroused. Though I couldn't see, I felt a light touch on the other nipple. He was putting lipstick on that one too. The lipstick then was applied to his own lips and he laid back in my arms.

Near exhaustion, I raised my hand and touched his hair, tracing a line down across his forehead and down his nose, reaching his lips.

He kissed my finger and then took it into his mouth. Lipstick around the finger would find its way elsewhere soon. My hand went back to his hair, as I softly stroked his fringe. If he was a girl, he'd have bangs. The rest was, and remains, longer than most guys' hair. I stroked it gently, putting fingers into the top and the sides, stroking this way and that. I raised one thick strand from the crown of his head. I stretched it to its fullest length. It was as long as my own. I smoothed it down again. Something inside me suggested not stopping here. He was in my hands. He had done as I suggested with the lipstick. We would use that again in our love-making.

His hands moved across my body, wrapped is it was in my favourite peach satin nightie. He traced the lace along the tops above my tits and reached up as the straps rose to my shoulders. His hand slid under the straps and stayed there.

The seeds of our enjoyment of his crossdressing had been planted. Here I was with a man wearing lipstick, caressing his hair as he fondled the satin of my nightie. Knowing of his past enjoyment of crossing, and feeling equally attracted to a girl as a boy myself, I reached an unconscious decision. This was here to stay as a part of our loving. Almost whatever he felt.

I touched his hair again and took a strand more tightly, rolling it round my finger. I held it. He twisted a strap from my nightie and tugged it. I pulled his hair again. He almost purred in pleasure.

"Let me brush your hair." I said, not asking for agreement. "Then you can do mine." I reached for the hairbrush beside the bed.

"Not unless you have some lipstick too." was his reply, offering the open lipstick to me..

Slowly, he sat up in the bed and turned his back towards me. He smiled. His lipstick was still smeared but the second application was bold enough. I put colour on my own lips for the first time today. The smell was, again, captivating. The taste, likewise. The feel of the creaminess on my lips was sensual in the extreme.

I took the hairbrush and drew the hair from the back of his head to the side and back towards the other side. I reached over his head and brushed the hair away from his face. It reached over his crown. I repeated the strokes several times, increasingly strongly to remove slight tangles and make it sleeker. I picked up the hair from his crown and, who knows why, I began to lightly back-comb or tease it, perhaps to add volume. Now I know, it was to make the style more feminine. I parted the hair down his head from crown to the front and smoothed the sides. His hair cried out for bangs at the front but the cut wouldn't allow this. I back-combed the crown some more. Oh, if only I could work on the cut, I thought…….

He hadn't moved through all of this. Where was it taking us? We had passed a turning point. The look was very much different to that we had started with on him. Writing this, I know it was my choice rather than his — but he was happily compliant with my suggestions, wasn't he?

He shivered quite suddenly. "I'm cold", he said

It was then I asked if he would be comfortable wearing something slinky……

"Another time" was the reaction to my question.

I had asked if "something slinky" would be nice to wear.

Perhaps it was because it was just as we came to the end of the after-glow felt having made love for what-seemed-like hours. We had ventured into the realms of make-up and things that had tempted me……. Unusually….. You see, I'm the wife……… My name is Zoe. He's the husband. His name is Andy.... for now.

We were exhausted, I told myself — though disappointed — and we turned to sleep. I was disappointed because I wouldn't have offered the idea of something "slinky" to sleep in unless I had thought he would love it. I didn't take it as a rebuff, or an outright refusal, more a genuine, "not now, maybe later".

As we turned away from eachother, I said "Maybe some fresh lipstick to wake up to?"

"Mmmmmmm…." came his response. "You too, though…."

We turned back to face eachother and I turned down the gold lipstick case to reveal the deep burgundy shade of creamy ecstasy…… I lined the outer limits of my own lips, filling the central portion with a thick creamy coat that I knew would last for hours, if left undisturbed!

I faced him, smiling quietly as I could leave him with the feeling that all of this was my idea…. really, honest, it was. His eyes were dreamy as I did the same to his lips as I had done to my own. A line to the margins of his lips with the point of the lipstick, followed by a filling-in to make a beautiful colourful, dark burgundy, slash upon his face.

"Lick your lips before we kiss, one last time." I said — and he did, minimizing the risk of smudging the colour…. before we kissed for the first time the following morning. Long lasting formula, the Dior Addiction lipstick promised. I was determined to test the promise.

AS we turned away to sleep, I thought again of how this had come about. The sex we had enjoyed was always good, but this had been spectacular. I hadn't planned this "diversion" at all. But it had happened. And how much I had enjoyed it. I yearned to do it all over again.

Morning came — perhaps too soon.

I awoke first, looking over at a husband who had turned in the night and who was facing me, his lipstick still nearly faultless. How good he had tasted through that and the delicious cum that he had found between my thighs. I stroked his hair, very gently. The hair that I had played with so provocatively last night. He didn't stir, even at that. I resisted the urge to kiss him fully on those deep red lips, until I had slipped from the bed, refreshed my own lips and brushed my own hair.

As I turned back to join him, his eyes opened. A smile spread across his face, welcomingly. Though barely awake, it seemed that sex was again in his mind — as it was certainly in my own.

Not for long, however, because a frown replaced the smile on his face. A look of… what was it?… Guilt? His face changed and he appeared very confused, even shy. He licked his lips. Gently at first, then quite furiously, removing the colour that had been so lovingly applied. There was a silence. What to be said? It was clear something was wrong. Sudden shyness.

"We shouldn't have…." He began. But the words faltered.

"Shouldn't have done what?" I whispered.

I knew then that the hoped-for repeat of the night's delights were lost — for now if not for ever.

He shook his head. He licked his mouth again, as if to make sure it had all gone.

I had guessed about the experiences of his past, before we were married. Cross-dressing at times; a "hobby" now long since forgotten. Never forgotten — that's for sure….. maybe just put away for "one day". But never forgotten. CDs I have met subsequently confess that "it's never forgotten." Perhaps I had exposed a nerve that once was raw and in need of continuing stimulation, but which had been bandaged and hidden away. My own taste for a fling with another girl — indulged many times in my young days — had likewise been tucked away… but of course, never forgotten.

All seemed lost….. He didn't answer, except to say "I must have a shower."

I lay in bed as he did so. Should I apologize? Not really, it had been a mutual expression of desire, last night. Nothing premeditated. Nothing to say "sorry" for. It was something I had loved doing — and would do again given half the chance. No, I wouldn't apologize. Maybe he felt he should. As though this wasn't "normal". as IF! It was entirely natural and something not to feel guilty about.

We spent the rest of that day "being busy" — as we often did when, having had an argument, neither would apologize or admit being in the wrong.

Leastwise, we did until early evening. It was the weekend. And as it was the weekend, we came to the time when, if either of us fancied the idea, all we had to say was "It's 5 o'clock" and the other would know that it was a good time for a fuck.

I was still feeling quite horny from the night before and so it seemed a natural way to bring us back together.

"It's 5 o'clock….." I said, with my usual "look-in-my-eye". "You busy?…." I asked.

"Not at all……", was his reply. "I was hoping you'd ask."

Another turning point? Should I… dare I, refer back to last evening…….?? I decided not to.

Yet.

I was tempted to mention it. I was tempted to lead in with "slinky" talk, but easily realized that would be a mistake — for the time being.

He approached me across the living room. His smile showed the day's distance was gone. That was exhilarating. He touched my nose lightly with a finger and left it there….. tracing the line down towards my lips and drew me close. We kissed.

"Here or upstairs?" — another frequently asked question! — this time he was the one to ask. So, it was my choice. Here would be nice…… but sex never lasts as long on the living room floor, it seems to me. And besides, last night was "upstairs"…… and I felt like continuing "last night".

"Oooooh, I think upstairs would be best…." I said, taking him by the hand. "..Close your eyes."

I unbuttoned his shirt and slipped my hand inside, playing with his nipples as I did so. He visibly shook…. but didn't repel the sensation. I loosened all the rest of the shirtbuttons and removed the garment by sliding it down his arms…. at the same time playing with a nipple that was, by now, hardened. I leant down, as he stood there, and placed a kiss upon this erect part of his chest, leaving a delightful circle of lipstick around it.

Yes, lipstick. Before the first exchange of words at 5 o'clock, I had freshened my lipstick and mascara, adding some eye shadow as it was "coming up evening time". I wanted to send a message. I was ready for anything.

He laughed. The lipstick was delightful and said only one thing….. "more".

Looking back, this was also a turning point in a way. Lipstick was again in both our minds - impossible to ignore. It was.

I told him to take a shower — to give me time to freshen myself too. And to give me time to think. I decided that it was best to lake things take their own course — not to drive things forward in whatever direction.

I was freshened before he emerged from the shower.

"Leave your hair to dry naturally." I called to him. I fancied running my hands through his still-wet hair. He emerged from the bathroom and, near dry, spread himself across the bed.

"Let me just do my hair." I said, taking a brush from the dressing table and turning to the mirror.

My hair. Before sex, it was something I had to have right to feel sexy. My hair. Once described, by myself, when I was angry with him, as "looking like a tart's"…… Done for him, because he likes it that way. Red — bright red — with blonde highlights framing my face.

I left him on the bed, anticipating. Growing hard. For just long enough for the "tease" to be recognized.

My hair, deliberately, took time, as I played with the style. Making it very much one to "stay in with" rather than be seen out with. I looked in the mirror for a final time. Right……it was…… In fact, I would have fucked myself if it was possible. It does a girl good to feel that way.

A thought flashed through my mind. Would he feel that way if he looked in the mirror as I had?

I turned towards the wardrobe to select a nightgown — the prettiest I could find. Another peach satin one. Or what about the light blue one with lacy trim? As I stood there with the two of them in my hands, I was tempted, again, oh so tempted, to turn to him and offer a choice….. one for me, one for him?

No, not…. yet…….. I knew that one day I would, but maybe not today. I didn't want to push him. I realized that I loved him even more ……. "this way".

I did offer a choice though…… "Which would you like me to wear, honey?"

"The blue one would be lovely." He answered. So I hung the peach satin gown on the wardrobe door.

At long last, hair and make-up done, feeling a Million Dollars, I slid onto bed alongside him, the red circle around his nipple crying out to be replenished.

At the side of the bed, I sat with the folds of blue silk around my body. On impulse, I took several layers of silk in one hand and began to stroke the body that laid beside me. I didn't need to ask permission. He purred quietly.

I toyed with it and the nipple stood hard again.

"Yours need some lipstick too…." He said, completely surprising me. My nipples.

"And how is the lipstick to get there?" I asked with a giggle. Just at the thought. He was hard by now and his cock invited me to climb upon him. For that, I needed no second invitation. I fucked him from above for, it was to seem like, hours.

He said "you must know where the lipstick is.. and what to do with it."

I could reach it beside the bed, even from above him. I found the Dior and put it to his lips, shaping them beautifully with coat after coat, to make sure it lasted. I reminded him to lick them, to avoid losing their shape and intensity.

I played with his nipples a lot. We would cum together, for sure. And we did.

In the delightful afterglow, I found myself thinking about the previous night and the fuck we had just enjoyed. Both had been phenomenal. Both had lasted almost endlessly. Both had a fouisson of indulgence of something we knew would be part of our future. At least I hoped so.

"Fresh lipstick?" The words slipped out of my mouth…. I half regretted it the very moment later. But I needn't have done. What was I saying? We had fucked delightfully. I risked ruining the moment. Too hasty? We lay beside eachother.

I dared not force him further in this direction. I so much wanted anything we do to be his choice — at this time in our lives, we have a lot worth sharing. I needn't have worried.

He smiled. "I've thought a lot during today."

I smiled, in hope rather than expectation.

"Last night…." I held my breath. What was he going to say? Had I gone too far? Had I uncovered hidden desires that he was scared of? Was my "lipstick lesbian" side too strong?

"Last night was heaven." He said. He breathed deeply, as if to prepare for an explanation. His voice was trembling. "…..it was heaven……. and today, I felt it shouldn't have been quite so delicious!"

I felt I had to speak, to relieve the tension, but what should I say? "Ahh, the guilt trip!" I joked.

Was that the right tone? It sounded mocking all of a sudden…. but I didn't mean it so. It sounded like I'd "been here, done this" many times before. I didn't mean that and I had to show him. So I snuggled into his arms and just said "No need".

"Well, there's a risk….. that I might like it too much!" He joked in return, but I knew that he was suddenly serious. He might just do that and he knew it.

"Whatever, is all fine with me." I comforted him. "Little bits of fun can't harm anyone."

" Well, maybe I hope that's true. I loved the creamy taste of the lipstick and the way it must look. And then there was the way you played with my hair…. Will you do that again too? You know how much I love your hair. That was fun." He paused. "……………Can we do that all again?"

We had finished a wonderful fuck. This wonderful man was saying this to me. What could I say, but "YES!" I reflected on the gentleness he had shown during our love-making and the almost girly feelings he was showing about caring for our sensual sharing of temptations. Who's leading who, I wondered?

So, I reached for the lipstick and the hairbrush…………….

(Shall I continue??)

A Wife's Indulgence

Chapter 2

by Zoe, a friend of WannabeGinger's life-long partner and Bride

My husband's now known as Anne. I'm his wife, I'm someone who wants to put our relationship into context, and show how a marriage can grow if both parties develop eachothers' interests and pleasures. I know of my friend's difficulties in her marriage to Ginger, but for me it's been very different and, I hope, you'll agree, much more fortunate.

It's important to have read my chapter 1 to know how this story began.

Zoe wants to put her relationship with her husband into context, and show how a marriage does grow if both parties develop eachothers' interests and pleasures. Only 24 hours has passed since the first chapter began…

The second evening…… It's 5 o'clock and, it being the weekend, that means time for a fuck, if both of us felt so moved. I did so… and made it clear.

We always enjoyed a fuck at this time - sometimes a real quick one, sometimes a long slow and luxuriating one. Last evening had been a long, long one — and wonderful by any standards. As I prepared myself to make the suggestion, my pulse began to quicken.

Tonight was bound to be different, because of last night….. Maybe not better, hopefully, not worse…. but different, certainly.

Now, we're back upstairs after a morning's "regret", "guilt", or even "shame"…. at least, it had seemed that way. What emotions had he gone through? What turmoil in his mind?

By comparison, I was simply purring over the love-making we had enjoyed together. He was thoughtful and quiet all day — until I had said "It's 5 o'clock, are you busy?" I was feeling like a million Bucks, it's true. How was he feeling — it soon became clear. He was a willing and, indeed, an eager participant in what had been so enjoyable. We both wanted more.

I confess, writing this years later, that it was all unplanned, how it began, but it seemed so natural for us both — maybe not for everyone — but nothing to be ashamed of, guilty about, or regretful for. I say that, even though there have been big ups and downs since then — maybe some of which I'll write about. I guess, you could say that I had opened Pandora's Box without any knowledge of what was inside.

I couldn't foresee or plan for where "it" would go. "It?" .....His crossdressing. There had been none of that up to this time — the second evening. By then, I knew it would go further…... "It" again… It has a mind of its own perhaps. But I didn't know how far and how fast. Looking back, I think it's gone fast enough and the "Downs" have only come when "it" has gone too fast… or too much of a big step at one time.

Back to the evening concerned……. We were beside eachother in bed, or rather on the bed, with the folds of my blue silk nightgown stroking over his body. I reached for the lipstick at his suggestion — at least I think it was his…. or was it mine? I know that I wanted him to use it…..

"You should learn to do this for yourself." I breathed, as I outlined the shape of his lips with the golden-cased stick. The deep burgundy colour looked as rich and as sensual as the night before and this morning when we woke. I would have suggested he wore it all day had he not removed it all before showering.

"Maybe we can go out and buy me my own." He said, between the strokes of the stick across his mouth. "Maybe I should have my own."

"Maybe you should." I agreed. "We should go shopping tomorrow." As I coloured my own lips. "Maybe you'd like some eye shadow?"

Was that another turning point — too soon? In retrospect, it was. A turning point, that is.

We kissed, after both licking our lips to preserve the beauty of the moment. H didn't react to the suggestion - at least outwardly. I would find out when we were shopping whether it had met with his approval and agreement — or whether another bout of regret would ensue.

His kissing became more urgent than before, bringing me to a wonderful, moist-between-the-thighs feeling in no time at all. There was going to be fireworks…. if I as lucky as I hoped to be!

He "went South" very soon, sooner than usual, and lived up to the promise better than ever. As he reached my pussy, I cried out in anticipation…… and almost cruelly, he paused, breathing warm breath over my anxious thighs and the folds of my love nest. He actually paused long enough for me to wonder if he had gone cold…..

What he was doing was tantalizing..... It was just what another woman might do... but not a man!

I smoothed the silk of my nightie over his neck. Not being able to see his face, I couldn't tell his thoughts…. but he was merely teasing me, before his tongue slipped gently into the labia on either side. He tongued me for minutes before straying deep into my pussy. His tongue touched what I now believe to be my "G-spot" deep inside.

His hand moved to the pillow next to my head where, it proved, he had secreted the toy we both loved; my "fucker", a nine-inch long, three-inch round, veined and headed dildo (what a bizarre word) that we called our fucker. It was an old friend!

He regularly brought me to intense orgasms with this lovely thing. It lacked the fake bollocks that so many have, and it wasn't a vibrating version — just a lovely strong, thick "fill-me-up" fucker. I recalled thinking that I would fuck myself if I could… well, in a sense, I had done, many times, when using this toy alone.

He had long ago learnt that my pleasure was especially strong if he licked me with the fucker in place, deep inside. I forgot that its "head" felt so good. But I also remembered that it was even more sensual if placed with the "head" going in last…. so that it would stand out an inch or two, allowing him to like me around a cock that seemed to be mine. The orgasm that followed was phenomenal and left me breathless.

In a moment, I could have my fantasy of a girl going down on me, changing to her — in this case, Ginger, sucking my fucker. Never had I, or we, been tempted to use the fucker on him. He was accustomed to giving it a very thorough licking before penetrating me, so he was no stranger to its more intimate shapes. The second orgasm was equally moving, coming so soon after the first.

We laid back, both needing a rest. We had kissed and fucked for a long time. I realized that we had my having hairbrush close by. Something reminded me. He had specifically asked to have me play with his hair again. He had enjoyed that a lot, I could tell. He hadn't yet cum, but it didn't seem to bother him. His cock was soft but very well, and invited being licked. I loved the taste of his pre-cum juices.

He loved my hair. Hair was his "thing" — or fetish, you could call it. He confessed later — one time when beautifully coiffed in our favourite salon — that he always looked first at a woman's hair, before any other physical feature. He had by then to come to the stage where he evaluated other women's hair by the answer to the question: "How would I look with hair like that?"

"Ready for your hair to be styled?" I asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be." was his answer.

"Then go and moisten it all, towel it dry and come back."

I had decided to give him the full experience of a woman's hair styling. A woman's hairstyle on a man. My husband. OK, This was my instigation. My idea. He hadn't asked for that.

His steps to the bathroom were quick and silent. Those toenails could do with some lacquer and colour, I thought. (How many wives ahve thought that of their husbands? Not too many, I suspect!)

He was back from the bathroom in a flash…….. but naked. Somehow, that was incongruous. He needed to be clothed, in my mind. His body needed to be clothed but he didn't realize that. He sat before me, expecting me to get on with his hair.

At this moment, a thousand thoughts rushed through my brain. He was a willing player in this theatre. He would be delighted whatever I would do. Could I risk shattering that by suggesting he get dressed — and, if so, into what precisely? I had a split second to decide — I know now — and this was a moment that might clearly change the course of the immediate future.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He asked. "I want you to make my hair as good as yours."

He reached up and touched the kiss curl that swept down beside my ear and up again, a lightly streaked curl that he had once called my "Fuck Me" curl.

His hair was as long as my own, even then, and was ready for rollers, if only quite small ones for the most part. I found myself thinking of how I would set it when his voice came again.

"I said, what are you waiting for, honey?"

Now or never. Would I, should I, suggest that nobody has their hair done when they're naked? Or should I not break the moment and just get on with it…… I could point to the peach satin nightgown still on the wardrobe door. I could point to its matching satin dressing gown on the back of the bedroom door. Both would fit him well enough. But both could send a shockwave through the room that might break the spell that bound us together.

In that moment I decided… Take the chance! He should slip the nightgown and dressing gown on. "Just slip these on, darling. You'll love the feel they give....." I didn't have to make the same suggestion twice. He looked lovely, standing by the wardrobe mirrored door. "They don't do as much for me as they do for you, honey!", he exclaimed.

"You say the most wonderful things. Just enjoy the silkiness...... Now, while we rest, I know that you love my hair and I love you for it too." My mind was made up. "Turn around and I'll do my best — you want hair like mine, you shall have it……. apart from the colour, that is!".

Not then, but later, at a similar moment, his fem name was conceived……. Every CD has to have one and it was his love of my own hair - its style and its colour — that gave him the name Annie. Close enough to Andy, his natural given name.

"Face the mirror, Annie" I instructed him. "You have to see every move."

"Annie???.... Oh, I see......" He immediately got the link....So I can do it myself?" He asked

"No, No, Annie, not unless you want to — one day — no, so you can see the care that it takes and the love I shall put into every curl…… as I roll them up, and as I brush them out when you're dry."

Sensual, this was going to be. We hadn't got near fucking again yet, but already I was yearning for another good fuck to follow. He could detect that, I was sure. He was breathing quite shallowly once again. His heart rate was about 150, I'm sure…….

I brushed his hair though, left and right; from nape to crown; from up and down. No tangles remained. The tailcomb I needed was on the vanitory unit across the room. I left him sitting there to get it. As I returned, he was touching the strands of hair on his forehead, entwining them around his fingers.

"I've never had rollers in my hair." He said with a smile.

"Well, now's your chance, Annie. do you like your new name, my lover?"

"There are worse things to be called. I quite like it in fact...." He answered, his eyes not looking in the mirror, showing a kind of shyness.

I laughed and began in earnest. His hair was already drying so sped was important. The tray of rollers that I usually used on my own hair was right beside where the tailcomb had been. There were more than enough for his head. I guessed around 20 or 25 would do it. Maybe three or four larger ones for the crown but mostly about one inch in diameter, allowing hair of about 3 ½ to 4 inches to be rolled tightly.

"And you've never fucked anyone with rollers in your hair, I'll bet." I challenged him. If this worked, I would have him fuck me with his hair all tightly rolled before I treated him to the comb-out and the resulting style.

"That would be tempting….." His voice tailed off.

"Gotcha!" I thought — that's a contract…….

At this point, again, I confess, I was driving the development of the fore-play — well, I can call it that, as it was "fore" something special, even though we had been fucking for an hour or more already. I lost thoughts of the risks involved. I had thought that he was thinking this was something we shouldn't be doing….. I had thought that he would be scared of getting "carried away" but, there and then, that didn't matter to me at all. I felt I was in control — both of myself (which I clearly was NOT), and of Annie's desires.

Where would this leads us? To his fucking me with my nightgown on and with rollers in his hair — that's where….. And MAYBE, just maybe, the slinky peach satin nightie might get removed when I fucked him in return?

I parted his hair centrally from crown to forehead and placed large rollers either side of this line, high on his head. I placed a second roller either side, further forward, to extend a parting that would run from behind his fringe, to the crown where I then placed two large rollers running side to side — that would create an uplift at the crown.

All of these were rolled tightly, to ensure the curls would hold through some energetic sex that I really hoped was to come, but maybe not last until morning.

I next rolled-in two layers of curls below the crown, incorporating the fringe that would fall to his eyes. This left the shorter hair below ear level that could only go round smaller rollers — but where tighter curls would be found.

Every curl would flow away from the crown. The height of the crown would be determined by the back-combing I might, or might not do. And there it was. Done. I couldn't resist biting his ear, below a roller that was the last to go in. "Mmmmmmmm……" We agreed together! He knew, that I knew, that he was expected to fuck me… and soon! His hands began to wander towards my tits, encased in the blue silk.

"Not so fast!" I said strongly. "You have to have setting lotion spray."

The smell of the lotion just added to the exaggerated atmosphere we sensed as we laid back together.

"More lipstick"…………….. He said!

"For you and for me." I said.

"And what about eye shadow? You said......." He said!

"No eye shadow, no fuck!" I said!

I was yearning to get his cock inside me but the fucker would have to do for now. His cock was still soft and wet....... I'd take care of that later. But for now, I wanted to be fucked... senseless if possible!

I found it beside my pillow, offered it to him to lick, and he slid it gently inside me again.

"Where's the eye shadow?" He asked.

"You'd better find it if you want a fuck, my Annie" I taunted him.

There was a playfulness about this time that would be impossible to create if you tried. It just happened and it was wonderful. It was the sort of intimacy that couples rarely achieve (if achieving is your bag!)…. so few are as lucky are we were then. The world did not exist for either of us in that moment.

He jumped from the bed, desperate to find the cosmetics that were so familiar to me, and so fantastic for him. He wanted the fuck and he wanted the cosmetics.

All of a sudden, from nowhere, I was tempted to play an Ace from the bottom of the deck. He didn't know what was coming.

"And if you touch another cosmetic before you find it, you have to use that as well." It was a taunt, and invitation, a temptation, and there were consequences I had yet to imagine.

Guess if he did?

Touch….. touch…. touch…. that's what I meant…. and that's what I said to my husband, Annie.

"And I mean it...if you touch another cosmetic, you have to use that as well."

He was standing at the dressing table. His hair was tightly wound in rollers and sprayed with setting lotion. He was naked, despite my urge to suggest he wore a slinky wrap of some kind.

He had to find the eye shadow, or else…………… no fuck!

But. But. If he was unable to find it, we were going to fuck anyway, I would make sure of that.

"Where is it? What colour case will it have? How big is the case?" He sounded desperate.

"Can't tell you!" I teased once more. "But you'd better make sure before you choose."

"I can't……."

"You have to, or else you'll end up with a full make-up to go with your beautiful hair."

His cock was huge again by this time, as he stood there. Nowhere to hide… except to push it between his legs and tighten his thigh muscles to keep it hidden. It embarrassed him that he had become so excited. He need not have been. The wetness in my pussy was equal if not greater. To see this honey of a man whom I loved, standing near my bed with his hair in rollers and lipstick over his mouth, meant I was as horny as I had been in weeks.

His cock was hidden. "Hurry up, or your hair will be dry." I urged him.

His hand strayed across the drawer of cosmetics and alighted upon a first package. The burgundy plastic case hid what was inside. Was it eye shadow?

Nothing like it! He had found the pot of foundation that I use every day.

Ideal. He could wear that anytime as far as I was concerned.

"No, my love. That's not it……. But you'll get to know that well when I have showed you how good it makes your complexion. It makes a great base for any other cosmetics you choose."

I was suddenly aware that my tone of voice had changed. It was just as though I was talking to a younger, perhaps inexperienced girl….. Annie, a girl…. not my husband.

My perspective looking back is that this was a turning point for me — if not for him, because he may not have noticed. I was talking that way because I wanted him to be this, or more, feminine. Standing there before me, it was like my teenage experiences with other girls. I relished the memories all of a sudden.

"You shall wear foundation for the rest of the weekend." I said, inviting no argument.

"You meant for that to happen, didn't you?" He said, with a knowing smile.

He later confessed that it was at this time that he began to hope that "things" would go quite a lot further than just a little make-up and "girl-on-girl" flirtation — that he would find himself "given over" to whatever I chose for him. He liked the teasing "game" we had been playing.

"Yes, but only in the moments before you chose it." I confessed.

His cock sprang from between his legs, again, adding a little to his embarrassment. I was conscious that clothing would help and even add to the sensuality of his situation, but maybe he still wasn't ready for that. Something tight around him? I had some nice stretchy lycra foundation garments — body smoothers, they're called……. But no, not …….yet.

He later confessed also that the idea of wearing some of my clothes struck hi at the same time…… a kind-of "sixth sense" struck up between us…… but neither of us said a word about it at the time.

"You'll have to let me deal with that….. (looking at his cock that wouldn't behave itself)… …come here!" I demanded. It was easy to take his cock between my lipsticked lips and begin a delightful, slow but certain blow-job. One that he would remember for the rest of his life! He was, or him, unusually huge that time… such a joy compared to the uncertain, confidence-lacking cock that often disappointed me and made him feel sad.

**********

He was back at the dressing table, but now the daylight from the window had faded. It was getting dark. How long had we been upstairs? His cock was now tiny and I had the taste of his delicious cum on my lips. I was in heaven. My hands were gently playing "down South" as I parted my labia to explore the clitoris that surely pulsed under each stroking. I had cum myself and was wet, quite literally wet.

He was where I had told him to be. Searching for the right cosmetics. His lipstick refreshed already.

"There are too many to choose from here!" He argued.

He needed a clue and so I gave him one simple one…… "Look for a flat little case that's no bigger than your four fingers across. It will have two or three little squares of colour, packed flat."

"Easy!!" He cried, grabbing what proved to be the right package. So there it was, the eye shadow he would have to wear. I knew it was a selection that included a pale purple, a deep dark purple and a white/frosted shade. Wonderfully sexy — for a night out even! Not now, but later.

"Come back here and let's feel your hair……" I said, as seductively as I knew how. "…..let me unroll one of these tight little curls….."

He sat down before me, with the eye shadow in hand, as I reached towards his forehead and unpinned one of the two curls that would make his fringe. It was still damp. I rolled the curl back even more tightly. He winced as the tightness of the curl connected……. He looked absolutely gorgeous, and I told him so. "You're a real honey!" I exclaimed.

Turning, he looked into my eyes, saying "Well, it's my turn to treat you right." Bliss. I dreamed of what was to come. A head crowned in rollers going down on my thighs, parting my labia once again. "I'll try to be like a girl would be. As good as she can be." He whispered. He threw his head back, showing me the full crescent of rollers around his crown. Tight. As I had enforced them. The style I had in mind, as feminine as could be.

It was as if the rollers in his hair shouted "I'm different!" So, when his hands strayed towards my tits, I knew I was in for a treat.. His mouth moved towards the first of my nipples whilst his finger and thumb teased the other, squeezing it tightly. His lips closed in on the first. His teeth closed in around the nipple and he began to nibble, lightly and flirtatiously at first. As the passion rose in both of us again, he chewed harder and harder, to my great delight.

His rollers made me imagine, just for a moment or two… or three, that he was "she" — I had made a long step in the imagined relationship we share in the last few minutes. The look of the man, with his face in part made-up, with his hair in part styled, with his body unclothed but needing satin or silk. But he was still my husband. There have been times, since then, that I have wondered what I started - times when I have wondered if my husband is "still here" because Pandora's Box has many secrets and we had only just explored the very first level.

Before very long, his head was at my bushy little love nest, his tongue was again between my labia. My legs were spread wider than ever because of the rollers in his hair. I leant back and indulged myself even more, floating in a wonderland of pleasure that he bestowed with his tongue. Just as a woman would do for a girl. He was so good at that, he should write a book. He could call it "Confessions of a male lesbian".

My orgasm was thunderous. I literally shook from head to toe for several minutes. Exhaustingly so. I was left nearly shattered. I was out of breath. I was almost unable to open my eyes, but when I did so, there he was……

"I felt chilly….." was all he said, standing there in the peach satin dressing gown that had hung on the wardrobe door. He now looked sensational. He looked female.

The temptation had been too strong, he said, watching me in that wonderful post-coital haze that overwhelmed me. He had seen the dressing gown where I had hung it. I was quiet. He didn't need to ask. He slipped, silently, from the bed. Trembling, he said, his hands had stroked the satin which was refreshingly cool to the touch. He took the garment down from its hook. He had looked over at me and wondered "if I should" — as he put it. He trembled at the thought that this might break the spell under which we were spinning.

"Then come back to bed, darling." As my haze cleared, I motioned to the pillow next to my head. And we hugged. The silk of my nightgown and the satin of his dressing gown flowed together.

In a wonderful slinky melee, the tenderness was overwhelming and it felt we could spend the night just as were, entwined.

**********

There was time, however, to eat a light supper together, to enjoy a glass of wine — as all our activities of the day had been sans alcool……. (as the French would say). I think we both needed a drink — and we deserved one!

I thought instantly that Annie - I decided to call him that all the time we were playing this way - had something important to learn about wearing lipstick…… She had to learn. How to avoid leaving a smear of colour on the glass. What better lesson to teach than with a glass of champagne in our hands. We always kept a bottle in the fridge and there was one ready for us then. A suggestion was easy to make. "Time for fizz??" I asked.

"As if you haven't been fizzing all day!" He said. "I'll get to it." And off he went, rising from the bed in my dressing gown that swept his lower legs. He paused in the doorway and looked back. "This is really ok, isn't it?" He asked. As if he was in need of approval or reassurance.

"Of course, it is darling."

Putting on that dressing gown had been a big step for him — taken all by himself, laden with ulterior motives, or not. Maybe he was just "chilly". Or maybe the satin excited him. A thought came to my mind — again, one of whether to push forward or not at this time. Should I say, as I wanted to: "We'll need to go shopping for something like that for you." Should I push him towards wearing some of my other clothes? What about owning a garment of his own……. perhaps the first of many? Should I risk it?

I decided not to provoke what could be a storm of uncontrolled developments that I couldn't foretell as desirable. I wanted this. He wanted this. It was enough. He would go downstairs to get the drinks. He would walk the length and breadth of the house, in my dressing gown. He would feel the sexy touch of the satin on his skin. This was just wonderful enough.

His hair would be dry by now, that was for certain. Should I let him sleep in his rollers or should we play with his hair to finish the evening. Before sleeping. Before waking once more to who-knows-what. I thought so, as I heard him moving things around in the kitchen. I thought of the phrase "I've started, so I'll finish………"

He returned with a tray, carrying a half-bottle of Champagne and some "nibbles".

"It really is alright, you know." I said, as he sat down. "I love you even more. You're such a wonderful sensitive man. No wonder you can treat me so well. Hold my hand and squeeze me, to make sure I am awake!"

He looked at me longingly, for a long time, before answering. "Love comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes and colours, I know. But I didn't expect ever to be sitting here with a beautiful woman like you, dressed as I am. It's a very different scenario and one that few could understand. But it's feeling right for me…. but only if it surely is for you. I need to have that reassurance. Like this morning. It was how you said… regretful, even guilty."

"Let's not rush ourselves." … was all I could say.

I couldn't wait to get my hands on his hair. To unroll every curler and transform the rolls into curls and swirls around his face. To lift and backcomb the crown. To tease the fringe. To complement the lips that were smiling at me. To add colour to his eyelids as he seemed to want me to do.

But first, the Champagne!

It was a time to lose my thoughts of here and now………………. While we luxuriated in the taste of the wine and the warmth of the sex we were sharing, my thoughts went back to teenage years and the first experiences I could recall of sex with another girl. The heady days of stolen kisses and admissions of "having a crush", of laying awake thinking what it would be like to taste another girl's most private parts — that was what we were told they were — "private parts". The first time that I could recall happened at school, inevitably.

I had felt unattractive since puberty and longed for the long blonde hair of a particular girl. Karen was her name. I loved her sparkling eyes and wide, wide, smile. One day, pretending to be heartbroken at an argument with a boy we both knew, I confessed that I wanted more to be close to her, not to any boy. Then things happened with a speed that was breath-taking. She proved to be an aggressive lover — given the slightest encouragement that I had given her. She led where I followed. She pushed and I succumbed. There were times when we were together that I knew we would be discovered.

Did she care?

Did she hell! We never were. By the time we broke up, over something truly silly, as girls do,

I had learnt a lot about how to love a woman — and how to be loved by a woman. That would help if Annie was keen to learn.

Back to reality. Here and now. Where I was the instigator of such things as I had never imagined to indulge myself with. Whatever willingness I had seen in my husband's joyful role-playing, he was still just a man playing "girly" for a night. I could encourage that without being threatened in any way. I was in control — no matter how much I said to myself that it was a "50:50 thing".

"Champagne… to celebrate…. Wonderful sex with a wonderful woman, Zoe!" He gushed.

"Champagne… to celebrate with a wonderful man, Annie!" I agreed.

"Shall we colour your eyelids before or after we do your hair?" I put the choice to him…. after all, it was his call to make. If it were my call, I'd do the hair last of all. I'd do the eyelids with shadow first and find that they were incomplete without some mascara. I had ignored that possibility in the teasing game, but it was true. He had to have longer lashes, oh and dark silky liquid lines to define his eyelids — top and bottom — to make the eyeshadow have its full impact. That meant eyeliner too! Then, and only then, would I finish the story of tonight, by dressing his hair in the most sexy and feminine style I could possibly create.

All the way through, I would stroke the satin that covered his shoulders.

"I've been longing for you to do the hair, just longing to see how you can make it look. Bet it's going to be difficult but whatever, I'm loving the feeling…….." was his answer.

He related his foray alone into the house a few moments ago:

"I looked in a mirror on the stairs as I went down. It's truly erotic, of all things, to be walking around with tight curlers all over my head. Like I have no choice in the matter. It's going to happen. You're going to dress it, the way you said you would, as much like your own — which I just love!"

His breath was shallow again. "Please do that first Zoe."

My thoughts were elsewhere again: My hair, which he admired, had been as it was for months and months — probably as long as we had been married. Yes, that was it. I had changed the style and colour about six months before we married. For the wedding. I had been a redhead ever since. Mousey brown in the few months before that. Not always that way though! I had been many different colours while we were courting — sometimes he would never know what colour I'd be from one week to another. He always said he loved it, whatever I'd become…… blonde, frosted, beige, sometimes burgundy wine or raven black.

I'd added highlights to my auburn colour in the last days before marriage — so he would see me that way first when we had the ceremony. And I had been auburn with highlights ever since.

Andy loved it so much, it turned out, that his fantasy later became to change Annie's colour to the same auburn with highlights. Now was that my fault? Or his simple preference? When we eventually did it, was that my indulgence, or his? That would come later — and in this story, several chapters later.

Very well, the eyeshadow — and the mascara and the eyeliner — would wait.

I took the first roller in my fingers and tugged it gently, releasing the pin that held it to his scalp. The curl sprang into life and settled on his forehead. The second did likewise. Already, he had a fringe to frame his eyes. I worked back along the parting, from front to his crown, releasing the curls that, in turn, sprang into line. The larger rollers over the crown were wound only one turn, so the curls were much larger and his hair gained height and volume as a result. They sat proudly above the rest which were unwound in lines around the back and sides of his head. All over his head - just like that — wonderfully pronounced and almost formal in their design, each one stiff and kind-of erect.

"How does that look?" I smiled into the mirror and saw his eyes transfixed on the image in front of him. He said nothing.

"Girly enough for you, Annie?" I asked provocatively.

My hands fell to rest on his shoulders, still encased in the peach satin of the dressing gown.

I stroked the material across the back of his neck and ran a finger up into the backmost curls.

Still he said nothing. Had I provoked the wrong thoughts with the "girly" question?

Seconds of silence between us extended into minutes - it seemed - before I took the brush and gently — everso gently — smoothed the curls over. Not disturbing their shape or individuality. Just softening the style slightly.

Still nothing was said.

I took a curl from the crown with the tailcomb and backcombed it gently, right to the roots.

A second crown curl followed. I was making a more elaborate style take shape. Still no words. There were thoughts in my mind that were in conflict. His silence could mean loads of things. Fear, rejection, panic, "rabbit-in-the-headlights", plain embarrassment, or perhaps, disbelief? Alternatively, it could mean I was doing just what was right.

Then, it came, the judgement from the victim!?

"It's just wonderful. I love it. I just love it."

He paused.

"Could you do something with the colour one day?"

I had to answer, honestly, but without committing us to anything.

"Of course, darling, if you would like that. It doesn't have to be permanent. We could have a lot of fun with some of the funky colours that are "wash-in, wash-out" you know. We could do that ourselves and one day you might go to a salon, if you like."

Nothing more was said — but more than one seed had been sewn in that moment. Seeds that didn't take long to germinate, as you'll hear in a chapter that has yet to be written.

"So, to finish the creation, let's deal with your eyes………. and then let's fuck once more before sleep takes us away!" I picked up the eyeshadow that he had found, put the foundation away for another time, and made sure where the mascara and eyeliner were for the finishing touches tonight.

There's more to write.... I'll carry on, thanks to the feedback already received.

Love Zoe

A Wife's Indulgence

Chapter 3

by Zoe, a friend of WannabeGinger's life-long partner and Bride

My husband's now known as Anne. I'm his wife, I'm someone who wants to put our relationship into context, and show how a marriage can grow if both parties develop eachothers' interests and pleasures.

Less than 36 hours since the indulgence began, I find myself in a quandary or a dilemma. After a wonderful weekend of love and sex and fantasy, I am facing my husband, Andy, over the dressing table in our bedroom. At home. Protected. Together. Loving. Sharing. He has his hair styled rather like my own. He has deep red lipstick on his face. He is wearing my peach satin dressing gown and he is waiting for me to put eyeshadow on his eyelids. He wants me to do so. He has discovered that these things make him feel sexy — as if he needed to feel more sexy!.

We have enjoyed wonderful sex for hours and hours, drifting in and out of male/female and just a suggestion of female/female lovemaking. He's been girly…. increasingly so. There's joy in my mind because I have loved every minute of the last two thousand (for that's all it is….) and I have no idea where the next 2000 will take us. The quandary is whether that has all taken place too fast. At this rate, who knows where we might end up. And I'm not sure I know if I want to go there. Well, I'm not sue I want to go so fast. So, like him feeling regrets yesterday, now I'm concerned...

"You'll have to hold your head very steady, honey." I told him, knowing that he would flinch when the eyeshadow first was applied. Having anything put near the eye provokes a natural reaction; one that girls learn very quickly to master when first they try using make-up.

"Yes, Zoe, I know. I haven't tried that for years but I can remember. In fact, it was the mascara that gave the most trouble as I remember……"

The tiny brush was easily loaded with eyeshadow from the little palette in my hand. I chose the deep purple for the lower area on his upper eyelids. Its impact was immediate.

His eyes seem to come alive. I swept the colour upward to the edge of the lids, meeting his eyebrows and giving a sultry tone to his face. Then I changed to the lighter purple and swept that across the fold in his eyelid that's deep in the crease above the lashes. Finally, a sweep of the much lighter, frosted shadow completed the look — a vampish aura descended about his face.

"You look really, really sexy, my love." I murmured "… but the look is incomplete without the mascara you said you've used before - a long time ago……. Did you ever use eyeliner? I have some superb quick-drying liquid liner, if you'll let me try it on you."

I noticed that his hands were no longer in his lap. They were stroking the arms that were contained in the dressing gown's satin folds. Moving to stand behind him again, I slipped my hands back to his shoulders and stroked him through the material whilst looking in his eyes in the mirror.

I looked in his eyes, seeking approval to proceed. "Annie, my love. Mascara and liner, or just the mascara tonight?"

One of his hands moved slowly towards his legs and stroked against his thigh. Soon, he had his cock in his hands, covered only in satin. He stroked more and quietly said "Just the mascara, please." So, I turned back to face him with the mascara wand in my hand and as I began he gently wanked himself, the pleasure being all-consuming.

Looking back, I could have felt excluded from this pleasure but my own pussy was so wet still, I could hardly complain. I spread the wand across the lashes that were relatively thin. It would need a serious amount of product to make his lashes look really as vampish as the eye colour demanded. Maybe one day, he should try false lashes, I wondered.

By now, I realized that his face looked distinctly more feminine than my own. He had more than enough make-up on and his hair that surrounded the image I was creating just make the picture hard to comprehend. After all, he was a relatively ordinary guy — not "pretty" as some guys are — he just seemed to take to the look naturally and, whilst still a guy in make-up and hair — he was still a guy ……100%.

His wank ended in a quite quiet (for him) orgasm and his cum made a tasty indulgence for me as I surrounded his cock with my still-lippy lips.

Later, (how much later?), he looked in the mirror and whispered

"You're soooooo clever! Zoe...... You've made me look what I am certainly not… and you've made me feel very sexy about it. It shouldn't be this easy. In really like the feeling…… Is it good for you… tell me…. Is it ok??"

His eyes flashed and he shook his head lightly, making his curls bounce in a very feminine way.

What the hell? This was role-play and much of sex is based on being something that you're not. Who was I to arbitrate on what is and what isn't acceptable. I had been pushing this forward. There was no doubt of that. Was it ok with me… of course it was. He's my husband and we're in this together, I mused.

"Will you sleep this way?" I enquired. "Would you like to wake up this way? remember, I have to work tomorrow and you have a day at home. So you could stay this way for a little longer if you wish." That was the case — I had to wake early to be away from the home for most of the day. He, on the other hand, could stay as he was and lounge around the house if he wanted.

"You could have a nice long bath and freshen yourself up for when I get home."

"I'd like to sleep this way, it's so comfortable. Let's see about tomorrow when it comes."

"Then you should slip out of the dressing gown and use the nightgown that matches it, you know. Girls feel better in nice nighties. I was as encouraging as I could possibly be.

The following morning, as I dressed for work, he woke later than I did and was sleepy still as I returned from the bathroom. I opened my wardrobe, wondering what to wear. Standing in my bra and panties, I hummed gently as I decided. There were plenty of dresses and suits to choose from.

"I think a boyish look would suit you today." He said. "In fact, as I've enjoyed your things quite so much, I think you should try a shirt and tie from my wardrobe. Then you'd be conscious all the time of what I'm wearing if I stay like this at home."

"Whoa!, that's unexpected!" I said. Now he was moving things forward. Last night's thoughts came flooding back….. . At this rate, who knows where we might end up. And I'm not sure I know if I want to go there. Well, I'm not sue I want to go so fast. So, like him feeling regrets yesterday, now I'm concerned...

But the thought wasn't at all irrational. Maybe I was just in "work mode". "Okay, good idea."

In fact, the day turned out very well indeed.

We spoke on the phone several times and I leant that he was indeed enjoying a day lunging around the house. He had a bath soon after I left and set about restoring his make-up. Surely, he should have taken it off by now? But then, if he took it all off, he couldn't put fresh colours in place the way I had done last evening. The impact would be lost, he said, and he wanted to hold on to it.

I didn't know until I got home, feeling great after a day I had made some bold decisions at work, that whilst I had been in work mode… he had been in "wank mode".

When I entered the house, all seemed quiet. I called out "I'm home!"

Whilst downstairs was quiet and orderly, I wasn't prepared for the scene I encountered on climbing the stairs. It was mayhem, like there had been a burglary. The bed wasn't made, there were clothes everywhere…. my clothes, not his clothes. It wasn't a pretty sight to a tidy-minded girl like me, to tell the truth. What had been going on?!

He appeared at the bathroom door. He had been crying, if he was not still doing so.

His make-up was ruined and streaks of black mascara lined his cheeks. His hands were covered in purple eyeshadow, where he had rubbed his eyes no doubt. There were mascara stains on the nightie that he was still wearing. His hair was dishevelled, not anything like the pretty style in which I had left it this morning.

He confessed that his morning went downhill from a luxury start where he felt really good about the way he looked. He had wanked, he admitted, and he had wanked again some time later. The whole morning was taken up with self-indulgence. The clothes that were spread around the room had been held up in front of him, dress by dress, as he imagined wearing them. He admitted, as if racked by guilt. The wanking left him almost exhausted. He said his bollocks ached. (Too much information!) Then the doubts had set in; his mind back in the guilt of the previous morning.

Next, he took a bath but found that his make-up began to lose its completeness. His skin had sweated and his contentment was replaced by concern for "what we had done". He wanted to remove the make-up but couldn't find the creams to do that.

His cock had risen again and he saw that there was more to this than he knew….. His sexual drive had been hi-jacked, he said, by his looking "this way".

"Well, not the way you look now." I argued, as he looked a complete mess.

"Did you wear any of my dresses?" I asked, kind-of feeling violated…… "Without my permission." I thought to add, but didn't. This had been a "together thing" An indulgence for both of us last night and the night before. Not now. In fact, Yes, I was finding myself angry at him…

Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized what I was thinking. He had to justify himself.

"No, please…. darling… It wasn't like that…… No, I didn't — you should be able to tell. I'm telling the truth. I'm sorry I made a mess but I haven't…….. worn…. any of them…."

"Well, it doesn't seem that you've taken much care…. and look at yourself… Look in the mirror You look like Elizabeth Bloody Taylor in a hysterical fit!" I rounded on him, unwittingly.

Oh, shit! This was all going wrong…. It had been wonderful — for both of us — last night, and even this morning. Now we were on the verge of an outright fight….. Too fast… that was the trouble. I knew it! If only we hadn't gone so far…. so soon if you want to say….. But he shouldn't have done this, especially with my clothes!

"Deep down, I want you to enjoy yourself, darling." I said, falteringly, "…..but I'm not so sure, at all, about you doing this alone. It was my mistake…. I even suggested it…. I didn't think you'd stay dressed all day… sill less end up in such a state. For goodness' sake, go and have a bath again. The cleansing products are all beside my bathroom vanitory."

He looked at me in an apologetic sideways look, and turned his back without a word.

The bath water began to run. The steam indicated that the water would be punishingly hot. The vanitory drawer slammed shut. He had found the cleansing creams. Now he was resentful. What did he expect!?

I sat on the side of the bed, close to tears. A wife who had indulged herself…. and her husband…. in something she couldn't control. What was I to do? Apologize? — well, no……. I'd tried that a moment ago and it didn't ring true. We had decided on this track…. we had gone along with eachother. We found ourselves in the mess we'd suddenly found ourselves in.

The best way would be to fuck ourselves out of it….. Lots of people can't do that; they harbour grudges that mean sex suffers. Luckily, we weren't like that…. We usually could "fuck ourselves back to normal" in times of trouble. And this seemed to be one… and this seemed the best solution….. But I still had my concerns. I was disappointed we had reached this. I enjoyed everything we had done. As he had. Now he was all guilt-laden, I had to make him comfortable… if we weren't to lose what we had begun.

I stayed on the bed, his shirt and tie feeling somehow reassuring to me. I had worn his clothes all day… well, some of them. I had felt close to him. He had worn my nightclothes. Hopefully, he would have felt close to me, before becoming overwhelmed. Hopefully he would have had me in his mind as he wanked. I certainly thought of him many time in my own little world when I was giving myself pleasure. My thoughts surrounded how much I had fancied him as a 'her' last night — well, almost a 'her'…… He/she looked lovely then, not as she had done a moment ago before we separated. Then again, I still fancied him as 'him'. A fuck as "he and she" would be the best way to calm things down.

Would we ever get back to "he/she and she"? I hoped so.

But not in a rush! I had to put the brakes on.

He seemed to have done that to himself in any case.

A fuck. That's what we needed.

When he emerged from the bathroom, his skin was almost red all over. The heat of the bath had been intense. Steam wallowed out from the doorway behind him. His hair no longer in soft curls, but rather slicked back behind his ears. Wrapped in just a single bath sheet, almost from shoulder to toe, he stood there…

"Soooooo sorry! I messed up, big time, didn't I?

It was early evening and I was tired from the day's work. I needed a drink.

"Two martinis??" I said.

"Not half!!" He replied.

We had often used the suggestion of a Martini as double-meaning for a fuck, after we had the Martini!

"Just ice and a slice? Don't get dressed. Just stay as you are, my honey." I implored him. "Just dry your skin and powder everywhere. That'll make you feel good. And then we can talk over a drink, downstairs."

He smiled. He was recovering his equilibrium from the pre-bath skirmish. Anger had subsided.

He followed me down the stairs after a few minutes. Whilst I had poured the two Martinis, which were big ones, he had clearly spent time brushing and arranging his hair. He had parted it centrally from forehead to crown, just as I had set it last night. He had drawn a comb through the rest to leave waves left and right. He had really tried to create an impression -and it was noticed.

"Your hair looks nice." I complemented but said nothing more. We touched glasses and said "Cheers" before sipping the nectar. As it was the first alcohol of the day, it really hit the spot. We sat together on a warm sofa in the living room.

"How was your day at work?" He enquired, just as a "wife" would do to a "husband" — there was a curious role reversal at play here, without any conscious action on either part. I had been at work. He/she had been at home. A fuck on that basis wouldn't work to restore the balance between us. This rapport was for tomorrow, or later. Today was for him to be him and me to be her.

"Work's not for now." I reached under his towel and felt for his cock. It was small and subsided — presumably from all the wanking of the daytime. "The Fucker's for now." He said, admitting that he wasn't ready. "I'll get it." And he ran up the stairs, two at a time!

The rest of the evening, we played all over the house. Fucking on the sofa, on the floor, in bed and even on the stairs. Exhausted, we retired to be… this time to sleep, at gone midnight.

My concerns of early evening time were allayed for now but I faced a choice — probably in the morning. I expected to find a changed man. But changed in what way. Would he be the dominant, or rather male, one? Or would he be girly again? What did he expect of me? To push back, or for me to be fucked as she by he/him?

In a single day, I had gone from almost a "lesbian wife" when we woke up, to mildly cross-dressing in his clothes, to an offended "wife of a closet CD", to a happy-to-be fucked-by-hubby type of wife. Which of these was I happiest to be? I really didn't know — but as the story will unfold, I will find out.

As I drifted off to sleep, I ran my hands through my hair on the pillow. My silky red hair. Maybe it was time for a change?

Chapter 4 will follow soon

A Wife's Indulgence

by Ginger's friend, Zoe

chapter 4

Andy's wife, Zoe, here again I'm getting some control over how my desires are shaping my husband in ways he, nor I, perhaps ever expected... We are gently moving towards his being girly when he fancies being girly... not all the time.. but whenever! This is requiring an intensive first phase.

……The story so far has been one of my thoughts and actions as the wife of a young man who had, shall we say, a tendency to cross-dress. It had been developed, unwittingly, in his college days. He had helped a friend during her time as a junior hair stylist. Along with two other friends, he had volunteered to be a model in a hairdressing competition. Little did he know, this required his being a girl for the duration of a major event. He'd been left with a subconscious fetish which would under-pin the games we were playing.

The Morning After.

I remember as if it was yesterday. My husband and me. Last night we'd had just survived a pig of a day. A beautiful start with my hubby dressed and "glammed-up" for me. My day at the office wearing a shirt and tie of his, to remind me of the way he would be dressed all day at home……… It all had gone "pear-shaped" when I returned home, to find him in a mess…. a complete mess. He had over-indulged himself and got into a state where my dressing skills were wasted. If we were to go on with my plans, to expose his girly side, we would have to regress and recover…. fast!

We had done so. His feelings of guilt assuaged, we had made love last evening - for hours - and slept soundly, caringly, gently, together. All wasn't lost. He hadn't "got it up" but had used our little fucker with his usual skills….. I was well and truly fucked by the time sleep came around. It was heaven. ……Though I remember wondering if this would be a pattern for behaviours in future.

Would it be me indulging my passion for his transformation, followed every time with his getting carried away with the idea and ruining everything? Was it me ruining everything/ Should I stop pressuring him? Was I pressuring him anyway? He'd broken down yesterday but, tomorrow, ……?? The first phase had obviously been too intense.

I loved the feel of him, I imagined him dressed as I had enticed him to be. Underwear to die for. Soft and silky. His girly "side" exposed. His face made-up with the most expensive cosmetics.

I could find for him. As subtle a look as I could create. (There might be times for a Tart to emerge in him, but for now, subtle and girly was good). He agreed. In two days, he had become quite choosy about his cosmetics. So, OK, he'd cracked a little yesterday. Tomorrow was to be better.

That told me my plan was taking shape well.

I woke the next morning, again well before he did. I showered and caressed my own skin with a great soft bath sheet. I smoothed my skin with moisturizer. I massaged my tits and played with the nipples which responded quickly. I was horny — especially after the fucker last night.

"Go shower, honey!....... Andy! Are you listening to me?" I implored him as he woke. "Get ready for me".

Sleepily, he rose from the bed and went to the bathroom. While he was there, I forced myself to decide how he would spend the day. Was I to let him alone with himself, like yesterday, and risk him having another set-back? Or should I plan his day for him? Not give him any excuse to go wanking the day away. I thought so. He would do as I told him and stay on "my" track.

My thoughts from the night-time became formalized; my plan was hatched in the time he was away! He returned from the bathroom, wrapped in a bath sheet and with a towel around his head, hiding his hair. He smiled, looking down at me on the bed. "Zoe, my honey, You're gorgeous….." He began.

"Not half as gorgeous as you are, honey." I said. "Come here and cuddle me." The towel in front of him rose slowly indicating an excitement stirring. "I want you to fuck me, just the same as last night….." I continued. "Mmmmmm…." he purred.

"But not now……………….Tonight!………" "Oh, you TEASER!!!" he exclaimed, frustration sweeping over.

"I want you to spend all day getting ready. This is a big test. Nothing like yesterday……. You've got things to do every hour of the day… and if you do them well, we'll be ideally set for a wonderful night tonight." (When has a wife laid out such ideas?, I wondered).

"Why not now?" He asked.

"Because, you're not ready!……." I said, purposely missing the point.

"Yes, I am, Zoeeeee, I am…….." He pointed to the divide in his towel where his cock now emerged. "Really, I am!"

"Not in that way…." I joked seductively. "That's the 'extra' you promised me….. well, I mean the rest of you. Today, my girl, you'll be a girl for me when I get home. Then, and only then shall we fuck eachother senseless!"

"Aw, c'mon Zoe...... What things do you have for me to do, then?" He enquired suspiciously.

"Nothing you wouldn't find easy. No need to worry.....Annie... honest..... Nothing that will change your appearance permanently. Just things that you'll relish and maybe like to do some more."

It was my intention, quite literally, to make sure that he was occupied all through the day -a long time when you're alone. A long time when other temptations are around you. I wanted him to savour every little aspect of a "Girl's Day IN". My initial idea to send him out shopping was a step too far I decided. He could do that maybe next week. Not dressed outwardly, but underneath! But not yet. Not today. Today was for him "at home, but organized".

If it worked, and if he kept his side of our promise, I would come home to a pretty husband who was ready to fuck!

"What things!??? Let's get a coffee and sit down to run through what you'll be doing." quietly, flirting, I whispered.

We sat at the breakfast table, both in our soft bath sheets. The coffee was hot and there was a spicy atmosphere. "I'm getting to like the idea." He whispered back. "This is all I have to do… lounge about all day?"

"On the contrary, Annie my honey. You won't have much time for that! Before I leave, we'll set your hair and you'll have to deal with that once it's dried — maybe before lunch. You can stay in the towel if you wish but you might like to use my long satin dressing gown. Your hair will take half an hour to style. Then I'll leave. It's up to you if you want to allow it to dry naturally, or whether you want to use the domed salon dryer I have in the spare room. As you'll be in rollers, I'd suggest you use that. It will be the only time you have to 'lounge around'!!"

"I can read some of your girly magazines then, Zoe? … Catch up on some make-up and beauty tips?" He mocked me… or rather himself. He knew he had to do all of this if we were to have that fuck when I returned from work!

I paused to reflect on what was going on here. I'm deeply in love with this man who, for whatever reason, isn't a great confident butch, macho, alpha male…… he's got a lovely tender side which I adore. That manifests itself in the way he loves me…. he can put himself in my place anytime — and especially when we're making love. I've tempted him to indulge me. I like the feel of him when he's "being girly"…. and he doesn't object at all. What could possibly be wrong??? Nothing….. nothing at all, but it's not surprising to have slight concerns if you're 'pushing back boundaries' like I am.

"Quite right, you can. In fact, there's another task for you! I want you to find at least three beauty procedures that we both can try next weekend, from those magazines…… Both of us!" I joked… but I meant it, and he knew I meant it!

"The next thing you will do, before getting dressed, is to take my tube of Veet and remove all the hair from your tits. Not the whole of your chest — just your tits. If I am to nibble your nipples when we're fucking, I want no hairs in the way. Understand?"

"Mmmmmm….I like the sound of the nibbling, darling." He said as he leant his head back. "There are some real bonuses in this, I'm beginning to think."

"Well, you're not at all finished with that….. When you've finished with the Veet crá¨me, you'll want to moisturize your tits and that could take a while! There's some Chanel5 Body Lotion on my dressing table. Take your time and luxuriate in the wonderful perfume while you soften your nipples…. for me!"

I went on, knowing the effect that would have on him and his libido. "Don't you DARE use the lotion on your cock! No wanking today…. I want you all for myself when you cum in my pussy!"

And I wasn't joking! "Wank today and this has to stop!" I threatened him. (I hoped and prayed he wouldn't let me down.) "Don't you DARE let me down!"

"I won't, Zoe honey, I promise. Yesterday was a mess and I'm sooooo sorry for that!" He wimpered.

"OK, Annie, enough said." I continued. "That will take you to mid-morning and you're not even dressed yet. So, next, I want you to choose some undies to wear. You can go through my underwear drawers and LOOK — but DON'T TOUCH ….. until you've made your choice. NO rummaging through them all and getting tempted again!" I was scolding him for yesterday really, just as much as I was threatening him with something I hoped wouldn't be necessary.

"Put on the sexiest undies you can find. Leave the suspender belt and stockings I've laid out until later. Now, do the same with my shoes. We're lucky that you're only a size larger than me… you'll fit some of the shoes I've stretched as I've worn them. Then, you're alone remember, you can parade around the bedroom in heels and undies….. with your hair in rollers. What a picture! I insist that you call me at the office and tell me exactly what you've been doing and what you've chosen to wear. I'll then give you some hints about how to deal with your hair."

"What a morning!" He breathlessly murmured, clearly finding the talk of this making him horny once more.

"DON'T you dare soil my knickers!" "Before we have talked, and before your light lunch, you can go to my wardrobe and you can choose anything from the right-hand side.... The dresses and blouses on the right... got it? Don't even look in the left-hand side. That is all my more everyday gear and you don't want to look 'everyday' do you? When you've m,ade yor choice, call me again."

By this stage in his briefing, I had set the scene for more than enough of my fantasy for my homecoming. However, this would not keep him occupied for the whole day. In my plan, I had yet to get him dressed in his outer/boy clothes, style his hair and do his make-up… and nails! yes, his nails could be very time-consuming, couldn't they? I thought. He must have used nail polish before and so he could be set a high standard of finish even though he would be "out of practice".

"OK, so your hair would be dry by then, ready for styling. Your tits would be shaved and moisturized and you'll be dressed in my undies and shoes. And you'll have chosen which of my dresses you'll be wearing when I get home tonight..... oh! and all before lunch!!"

I re-capped for my own benefit as much as his. Where to take him next? I decided that his lunch could wait — he had to practice eating without messing his lipstick. Before that, his hair should be taken from its nice tight roller-set and allowed to relax before styling. So that meant, hair and make-up, then lunch — a light girly salad and a slimline tonic water... NO GIN!!

"You'll next have to go to the vanity unit and look at yourself in the mirror. All girly, you'll be, with your hair in nice tight rollers. Make time to absorb the image you'll see. Then begin to remove the rollers. Annie! Now listen, this part is important.... Start with the larger ones around your crown. Leave the smaller ones around the nape of your neck until last. Leave each curl as a springy roll against your scalp. Go slowly, taking care with each one — they're all precious. Don't whatever you do, get the hair in a tangle. Feel the way the curls are placed in different directions. Enjoy the experience….. and remember, …. leave your cock out of this; tucked away." I pictured him doing this as I talked him through the instructions. Just the thought of him doing this essentially female thing make me slightly wet around the pussy. Delicious.

"When you've taken out the last one, admire yourself in the mirror again!" I meant for him to take as much time as possible over this. "You'll be calling me on the phone very soon after, so keep the details and the way you're feeling in your mind. I'll want to hear all about it!"

Sharing……. that was the essential part of the plan. I would insist on hearing every detail and how he was feeling during such a feminine past-time.

"You don't get to call me until you have your make-up sorted out. So, still at the dressing table, you'll find I've laid out some of my delicious cosmetics for you to use. DON'T over do it! Remember…. 'Less is More'……… Less is more attractive. So, use light foundation and blusher, bright but light eyeshadow, a little mascara, and as much lipstick as you like!"

That would take a while because he was unlikely to get it right first time.

"Use the foundation all over your face; make sure you cover where your beard growth comes and well beyond. Go down your neck. Get up to your hair-line. Cover your cheekbones. Lightly cover your under-eye areas and the lids too. That will make your eyeshadow take better and last longer. Finish off with some blusher on the big brush. If you like the look it gives, we'll get you some crá¨me blusher that will be easier for you, next time. Be very careful NOT to get any product on my lovely slinky dressing gown that you'll still be wearing!"

I imagined him doing this, alone, half-dressed in my undies with his hair in curls, wearing low-heeled stiletto shoes, sitting at my dressing table.

"Next time?" he said, almost flirtatiously. His eyes looked like Diana's — everyone knows "that" look that she gave to the cameras all her life.

"Choose your eyeshadow with care and use at least two colours — one for the brightness — a white or silver — and the other for vivid colour - I'd suggest blue because there's a brilliant blue in the palette. Finish your eyes with mascara….. and remember! that's the tricky one! Go gently… it doesn't matter how many strokes of the brush you make…. just keep adding that intense black shade. I'll do something with my liquid liner when I get home…. I can't expect you to do that yourself…. yet!"

I had plans for that stage…………….. but a long time ahead.

"Finally, Annie, you can indulge your love of lipstick and put as much as you like of whatever shade you want… there are several to choose from………. Get right up close to the make-up mirror. Admire your new look. Take pleasure in this "you" that you can see……………….Then, you must call me. Sitting at the dressing table…………………. Oh no, there's something I've forgotten — before you call — go back to the wardrobe and select a pair of stockings and a suspender belt to wear. Put on the 'garter' as they call it someplaces. Take off your shoes and smooth your hands over your legs. Don't worry about the hairs there - we'll deal with those another day - and slip those wonderful 7-denier stockings up your legs. That's one of the sexiest feelings a girl can experience. And then fix the stockings to the suspenders. The front ones are easy but you may have trouble with the ones at the back. Be patient. Don't get in a flurry; you'll get hot and bothered. Take your time."

He was still silent, his head tilted back, clearly imagining the wonders of what was to come.

"……………….Then, you must call me. Sitting at the dressing table…………………" I said.

A frown spread over his face………………. "What if I make a mess of it? What if you come home and find me with mascara everywhere again and other stuff………??? It's wonderful to think about doing all of this but……." I had to stop him…. Build his confidence……

"Don't you worry, Annie, my lover. You'll do fine. You know how much you fancy doing this so just take your time! I trust you to go for it the best way that you can and I'll help you with any little mistakes……. You know how much I fancy you — boy and girl — let's just enjoy ourselves. Now, go and find me a shirt and tie to wear from your wardrobe. be prepared to justify which dress you have chosen and WHY!!"

I had changed the subject. He was distracted once more. No longer haunted by yesterday's loss of confidence. I had saved the situation.

It was getting late and I had to be leaving for work in less than half an hour. I had to set his hair in that time… and we hadn't sorted what he would be doing all afternoon. Was there enough time? Maybe not, but I'd still love to come home to find him as we had described and agreed already. If all that took longer, I could easily arrive home and style his hair.

Quickly, as I was waiting for him, I went to the hand basin and wetted my own hair. I ran to the dressing table mirror and took my canister of hair mousse — L'Oreal's Elvive extra strong hold for colour treated hair — and I piled a handful into the crown of my now wet hair.

I worked it through and combed the hair flat to my scalp. As boyish as I could make it in just two or three minutes. All to add to the role I might play on my return — androgynous at the very least. In fact, I quite was taken with the image I saw. But I needed lipstick! I was just finishing a double dose of my favourite Dior's Diorific, long-lasting, Gypsy Rose.

He sat at the dressing table, having laid the shirt and tie on the bed, removing the towel from his head. His hair was just damp, a little too dry for my liking so I sprayed it heavily with Chanel's eau de parfum and added a similar handful of styling mousse as I had used myself a moment before.

"This will make sure the style lasts tonight." I smiled at him.

There was no time to lose. I combed his hair through for a last time and sectioned a lock from his crown. I took the first and largest roller from the tray and began to wind it into his scalp. Tightly, it had to be. he needed to feel the tug of each and every roller. Another followed, my hands moving swiftly. In a minute or two, the whole of the top of his head was covered. There would be a wonderful curly style to make as a result tonight.

"We have other things for you to do before I get home, so listen carefully. First, when we have talked together on the phone and shared some of your experiences, I want you to have lunch… a light lunch that's only there for you to practice not spoiling your lipstick! So, a salad will be perfect. There's plenty to find in the fridge. You can have no more than a glass of wine….. again, whatever you choose to drink, it's for you to practice not leaving lipstick on your glass. You must lick the glass before sipping — like I do myself, always, and you've noticed. That will prolong the lips of those luscious lips!" Small details but important ones, I thought!

As I rolled his hair, I gave instructions. "Then, I want you to wash your hands in warm soapy water. Do the same with your toes. Then, you must dry them very carefully because your next task is to shape them and paint them with nail polish. Take an emery board and file them to a perfect shape. Never mind their length — they can grow longer in time..." (I had plans!!).

"....Then, you should apply a base coat to each and every toe and finger nail. It's clear and helps the colour you'll be using to take better. It also has a strengthener to harden your nails for the future. (He would have claws to die for, one day!). Finally, and with very thin coats, you'll have to apply the colour. You should wait for each to dry over 10-15 minutes. Slow and clean sweeps of the brush. Don't "dab" at the nails……. And you'll find it wonderful, the smell of the polish and the texture of the nails when you've finished."

Then you can return to the wardrobe to get your chosen dress or skirt and blouse. You'll know exactly which one because you'll have described it in inute detail when we talk on the phone. You will KNOW why you chose that one. I leave the reasons up to you! Make sure they're nice and girly won't you, darling Annie! Only then will you be ready to receive me on my return."

His eyes closed as I was saying all of this. I hoped he was listening and taking in the details.

I could tell he was somehow submerged into the total experience he was having.

I carried on, working with smaller rollers around the level of his ears and below. Just an inch in diameter there, but there was enough hair to roll around two or three times. Tightly, angled this way and that. I was creating a style from my imagination. How would he look? Heaven knows, but it was the process that was important - more than the ultimate look, s much as I wanted it to be soft, silky, fluffy and girly.

Soon, we were done and I had to dress myself and leave. "Don't have the dryer on too hot, my love. Take time and enjoy it and you won't damage your hair either. When you're finished, leave the rollers in to allow your hair to cool and fix the set better. Have a wonderful day"

Now might be a good time for him to add some thoughts. I'll return in my next chapter with my homecoming that day (Day 3) and how he had done with meeting my instructions.

LOL Andy's loving Wife, Zoe

I've asked him to recall the time when we were "just beginning"………………..

A Husband's indulgence of his Wife's passion.... or his own?!

>WannabeGinger

I've asked him to recall the time when we were "just beginning"………………..

HI, my name's Andy, and I've never tried writing like this, especially not about something deeply personal lile...well, my dressing..... It's great to have a wife who understands..... Where to begin... well, near the beginning...... It was college days for me... none of this "when I was eight..." malarky.... I was a testosterone-filled young man of 17...... when it began......

It's easy to recall college days. It's less easy to recall the time when my wife and I began to "play games", games that involved my feminine side… which I now firmly embrace.

I know I'm not homosexual. I know I'm not "trapped in the wrong body". Looking back, I don't know when I came to terms with the "me" that just loves the feminine side of life……… Just occasionally. It must have been at this "just beginning" time.

In my college days, I wasn't one of the "guys" especially. I did my studies. I kept out of major sports, not having the brains to avoid the need to study at weekends. I did enjoy the beers with other guys some evenings but never went on the 'binge' as many did. Maybe this made me a little different from the rest.

I did enjoy hanging around the Students' Union where there was always a good social scene, especially with the girls. I got close to quite a few of them and enjoyed romances with a small number… well, actually, just two. Call it love? No, I don't think so, but maybe being in love with the idea of "being in love".

I certainly fancied getting inside their panties……. in the more usual sense of the words.

I fancied the idea of breaking my 'duck' as far as sex was concerned. I particularly came to admire a girl called Karen who was studying for a Hair & Beauty qualification. She was a peach! Her long dark hair was lustrous and shining. Just invited a touch. She, on the other hand, didn't invite me to touch anything else! I came to learn that she was uncertain of her sexuality and was most probably bisexual. I was good to have as a friend, but platonic was all it would ever be, it seemed. Well, I'd like us to go further. I could have handled that "bi-" side to her! Perhaps we were always going to be "just good friends".

However, a time came when she needed help. It's my story but it was written by that close friend "in the first person", as though it was he/she involved. and you, dear Reader, may have read my account of that time in my life. This brought me much closer to another of Karen's friends…… Ginger. (There was another girl, Margot, who was definitely of a lesbian tendency and had a scary Mother who was probably that way inclined as well). Ginger was a darling. I fell head over heels in love for her…… I say "for her" because she clearly didn't fall over backwards "for" me……. at least initially, she didn't.

I just adored her. Her body was wonderful….. I think the kind word is 'pneumatic'… all the right curves in all the right places….. Tits to die for, and a face to match.

Ginger was also helping Karen with her hairdressing training. There was to be a competition. Ginger also volunteered to be a model for Karen in that competition. Margot did too. So, what did I do? …..I volunteered, without knowing what was involved at all. That led to my dressing. That led to my having my hair styled and coloured. That led to my living with Ginger for several months. My darling wife, Zoe, knows the rest of the story and it does not bear telling here.

When Ginger and I split, I put my dressing away in the metaphorical "box" that most CDs have in their minds. Push it away. Hope it doesn't return……. at least not in an embarrassing way. Keep the lid on the box. T hat was my mantra.

Months went by. I began to ease up on feeling that I might yet go back to dressing. My hair colour reverted to natural. No longer did I have to tell friends and family that I'd dyed my hair 'for a laugh'. It was behind me.

I was a solo guy, looking for a girl, like many of my mates.

My conundrum stayed in its "box". Thoughts of cross-dressing were banished. But I guess I did indulge my fetish increasingly. That was for Hair… beautiful shiny, styled and conditioned Hair. better still, beautifully coloured Hair. It occupied my waking thoughts and my "going to sleep" thoughts. It occupied my masturbations. It occupied many of my fantasies. Often, I would be the subject of the styling and colouring. Often, I would be left with a fantasy hairstyle to die for! It was always accompanied by dream-like fantasies of the underwear I would be wearing... At this time, it wasn't in my mind to go out and try to "pass" as female. No way. I was firmly in the closet!

Every day I would be distracted by the hair that women I worked with, or passed in the street, had as their "crowning glories". I noticed that women who cared for their hair, generally cared for themselves much better than others. They used the right amount of cosmetics, and used them well. They dressed with impeccable style and confidence……… Just as I thought I might, if I were dressing still — which I wasn't. I did imagine their underwear, and before long, the temptation to buy some for myself returned. By now, I was in employment and earning a good salary. No problem then to pass by quite stores at quiet times where they sell quite beautiful lingerie. I concentrated on bras, suspenders, stockings and camisoles. Enouh to make many a lonely evening just pure bliss!

A few would be my fantasy lovers, playing games with their hair as I fucked them wildly.

Rather few did that in reality. Indeed, none did, until I met my darling wife. Heaven would, therefore, have to wait.

I loved my private thoughts. They recurred and developed. I adored many women's hair. Indeed, countless women, some celebrities, some just everyday adorables I saw in the street or on the train. I imagined how I would look with their styles re-created. Such is the world of the fantasist I had become.

My hair grew as long as I thought acceptable in "polite society" — long enough not to draw derision from workmates, but long enough to play with when I was alone. I became quite adept with a styling brush and even worked with rollers. I practised setting my hair when I knew that I had a long weekend without commitments. I even dallied with colour, albeit temporary rinses, when I knew I'd have enough time before work on Monday for the colour to disperse.

I read some stories that I found on a wonderful website — Crystal's Storysite. I found the story of my dreams with Marti B and her story "Two Fifteen" where a young man takes up every ounce of his courage to go into a salon and, little by little, have himself gradually transformed. I SO much wanted to follow his path. Only problem came at the end where, instead of keeping up the joy of his femininity with return visits to the salon, he drifted off for months only to return fully transformed and living as a woman. Too far for me, that one..... It confirmed in me the vieq that I needed to be feminine, just some of the tiem.... Go the whole way? heavens no! Kiss guys and get fucked by them? NO THANK YOU! Guys have disgusting habits - i know, I Am one, remember! Why would any sane woman want to have one fuck their brains out. No, No, far better to fuck woman-to-woman. By the time I was 20, I knew I was a lesbisn!

Changing sex was never my idea. Never in my mind at all. Not even tempted as far as my wife and I were able to push our experimentation with my looks. Not even tempted when indulging oral sex as girl and girl (well, one with added extras, ok). I'm a bloke at heart. I may love to transform my face and my hair and I may love to wear slinky underwear, but deep down, I'm a bloke and I love to fuck.

That's me really. That's how I'd express myself and when she asked for my contribution to her side of our story, I have thought as I wrote and this is what you're ending up with, my friendly reader.

I can remember the first few days that she's describing in this story only if I try hard. It all seemed to happen so fast. I do remember the flirtation and the first playings with lipstick and the first time I did wear her undies. Those were precious moments. I do emember the day soon after when I lost the plot completely and she found me as a very sad case having been alone all day.

We did make up after I recovered my sense of proportion. I wouldn't do that again — wank myself five or six times in a day, strewing her clothes about having been tempted to wear them….. Then the 'reconciliation' that evening. We fucked beautifully as boy and girl. The next day, I had expected to go back to being a guy but no! She insisted — though I might have had a choice, I'm not sure — I think she insisted that I spend the day getting 'girly' for her. I've done this many times since then…. and always I hope I get a little better. That day, I was making mistakes… but having the cool to slow down and go back, cleanse my skin, for example, and try again. It seemed to take for ever. But what a day!

We've talked about it many times. That was a crucial day for the way we are now — the way we are as lovers and husband and wife. Am I glad for that day!!!

I'm sure Zoe will worite you more. She seems to have got her teeth into this project... with Wannabeginger, her friend's, help!

Andy...... or as I am today, Annie. xx.

A Wife's Indulgence chapter 5

by

Zoe, a friend of Wannabe Ginger

I am only three days into my story of the early days of my husband's development into a "sometime" boy/girl. Earlier chapters tell how it was all at my instigation. Earlier chapters tell readers that I'm sharing this true experience with how we began. I hope other wives may benefit. I'm trying to report happenings on the way whilst also recalling the feelings I had at each stage.

There was never a conscious plan in my mind at the outset, but one did evolve, quite rapidly. Whilst there were occasional set-backs, I can tell you now, the pathway was very well worth treading. I hope you like the way the narrative develops. Feelings aren't always easy to verbalize.

The rest of day three.

I left my husband Andy at home and set off for work, a little late that morning because of the time it had taken to give him a briefing on what was required of him. I had intended to keep him busy for the whole of the day, giving him a series of tasks that would bring him to the stage where I would return from work that afternoon.

He would be dressed in my undies and shoes on my return. (He could choose any of my dresses to wear during the day, if it so pleased him. He would have combed-out his hair, styled as I had roller set it that morning. He would have mastered make-up on his own for the first time. I was really looking forward to getting home. We were on the promise of a delightful fuck this evening and I intended it would be one to remember!

During the day, he was to telephone me, once he had dressed and reached the stage of completing his make-up and polishing his toes and fingernails with vampish nail polish,

I couldn't wait for the call, although I knew it would take several hours for him to reach that stage and have the courage to call. I wanted him to be proud of what he had done, all by himself. I wanted him to be proud of resisting the temptation he'd given in to the day before.

The ride to work was uneventful, the drive being short and just after rush hour. It gave me more time to reflect on the briefing I had given him. If he could manage all of those things, I'd love him to pieces!!! We would fuck like crazy that night!!!! Before reaching my workplace, I began to plan the evening that was to come in my mind's eye. I could "see" him as Annie, his new alter-ego, when I got home.

I expected he would look a real honey!!! I would tell him when he phoned to dress only in those undies and my peach satin dressing robe, but he was to know exactly the dress he would wear later in the evening.

I had a surprise for him in the telephone call we would have. I would tell him how I'd not only used the shirt and tie of his to wear to work. I had also borrowed a pair of his nice tight jockey pants that would keep my pussy cosy and warm…. and wet. There was also another surprise — inside the jockey pants — which you, dear Reader, may speculate about. More of that later.

Arrival home would be something to savour. I'd imagined him meeting me at the door, dressed sooooo sexily that I would gather him/her into my arms and kiss everso so softly so his/her long-lasting lipstick would be saved (for later). I'd run my hands over his/her sleek body, encased in the satin robe. I'd finish on his/her nipples and give them a very very hard squeeze through the satin.

I'd say nothing more than "show me your nipples." They had better be soft and hairless, the squeeze making them erect. I'd inspect them and, if satisfactory, I'd lay him on the sofa and kiss them sensually. I wouldn't bite them… until later….. though I'd tease him with my teeth. While laying together, I'd seek out his undies and find where his cock was restrained in beautiful lace. I'd run my hands along the tops of his stockings and up the suspenders to his waist.

All very lightly, teasingly, sensually, expecting his cock to break free.

If it was not to do it by itself, I would free it from the lace take it in my hand. Knowing that, if he did cum, there would be time for him to recuperate before we made love later. That could be his treat — and mine if I got to swallow his juices. Again, gently though — no teeth. "That" might come later too.

We would then move to the bathroom where I would freshen my make-up and slick-back my hair again with some water. He would have his make-up inspected and, I was sure, have my correcting hand to make perfect his illusion. I would play the girl/boy role for now…. I'd be in control. He/she would be taken step-by-step through the evening but always knowing that my pussy would be "his to play with" later.

What he wouldn't know then, or for a while longer, was that the surprise inside his jockey pants was the wonderful dildo that I was using right now — on my drive to work! My pussy was warm and wet, just thinking about what treats were to come.

I had been tempted while he was still in the bathroom after waking this morning. Seven or eight inches long, I quietly pushed it into my love-nest with its head protruding just an inch or two. All day, I was having the joy of squeezing it to exercise my pussy muscles for the evening's entertainment. Occasionally, I would go to the ladies' room and moisten it in private, maintaining a state of permanent readiness for the fucking I was to enjoy later.

On arrival home, I would expect Annie to go down on me at some stage and find the tip of the fucker there. I would have him explore all round it and suck it as if it were mine….. fully completing the girl/boy role reversal. He might fear being penetrated with it at some stage but that was not in my mind at all. I would discard it and implore him to fuck me hard with his own cock to consummate the evening.

Even writing this, recalling my thoughts at the time, my pussy is getting very wet indeed. In fact, a repeat evening — lock, stock and barrel - could be a very good idea!

"Enough of this." I thought to myself as I arrived at work. The fucker would keep me pulsating all day. I had much to do before he was to call. I expected the phone to ring around mid-day. However, I wasn't prepared for the reaction of colleagues in the hairdressing salon where I worked at the image I presented. Very different to my usual 'look'. I pushed the door into the salon and immediately heard a "WOW!" from Hayley, the Colourist. "You look stunning!" She said. "I'd fancy you if you really were a guy! What's all this about?" She exclaimed.

Maybe the androgyny had gone a bit far!

"Seriously?" I flashed my eyelids at her. "I just fancied a change today." I laughed. I could have said "I rather fancy that idea."…. but there would be too many complications down that route.

"I love the hair…." said Hayley, "……… I might try that myself one day." The slicked-back lok accenturated the power of my well-mascaraed eyes. o

"You'd be surprised the way it makes you feel." I said, meaning every word. It was true. The change in my own hair had made a difference to the way I was feeling. Then, there were the clothes I'd taken from Andy's wardrobe. My femininty was maske,d but only just... the beauty of my ample tits was there for all to admire. I even admired them myself in the many mirrors at the styling stations.

I was certainly "up for it" if anyone wanted to give me trouble today (as I was to find out later!)

The salon owner came from the back of the room and was equally surprised. "My goodness!" she said, "......very interesting…. You should explore this look - we might have clients who would follow your lead!". She touched my arm. "What does your hubby think? Some men might not take it well." I was tempted, feeling as assertive as I was, to tell her that he had loved the look as I kissed him goodbye in his undies and satin robe with his hair in rollers! Of course, I shouldn't betray him/her in that way.

"Oh, he's loved it. I guess you mean some guys would be threatened by a shirt and tie, but he's very sure of himself. It's only for once….. I guess……. and to check out people's reactions." Maybe, he would feel threatened when I got home with this dildo between my thighs, but who was to know?? There was work to be done and I had clients' hair to style.

Hayley said she'd talk to me later…… she had an idea for the colour of my hair in this new style.

The morning passed relatively uneventfully, with my pussy responding to every change in posture that I made. The outer lips were now flowing with juices that I could almost taste as I stood at the styling station, standing over the women whose hair I was working on. I found myself being more adventurous with their hair. I was making suggestions to each of them to change their styles and have more fun…. "like I've done" was my punch-line.

My 11.45 cut and style was a typical example: A 40-something woman, tall and busty, with a figure that was evidently corseted beneath a business suit, who asked me "what made you change?" I answered her question with a question:

"Could it be that you're asking because it's time for a change for yourself?" I said. I wasn't prepared for the rely, but there it came, in the confidence shared only between women and their hairdressers:

"Well, as you mention it, yes indeed. I've been finding my husband is much less assertive these days and I'm wanting to change the dynamics a little. maybe, my taking over the assertiveness bit would work. I quite fancy the idea of a little swapping of roles... In fact, I'm very much of a mind to do just that..."

I replied, in my best conspiratorial tones, "well, if you did make some changes, I wouldn't stop at just the style of your hair. I'd get a new set of underwear.... you'd be amazed how empowering a subtle change can be...."

"What d'ya mean...?" she asked.

"I mean get some boxers to go under that suit. And I'd take of the bra. Buy a man's shirt too, and maybe a man's leather jacket. I've been meaning to get one myself. Then you can give your pretty underwear to your husband! 've just done that myself. As I say, you'll be surprised how empowering it could be!"

All the time, I imagined my husband at home, perhaps struggling with, but getting through the tasks he had been set. Mid-morning, he would used the depiliatory crá¨me on his tits. He would have moisturized them. He would have dressed in the most wonderful undies I had. By now, he would have put on the stockings, smoothing them over his long legs and he would have paraded around the bedroom in those heels.

"You're kidding me!" the client exclaimed, but intrigued - I could tell. "Are you kosher!?"

"Indeed I am, it's been on my mind for a while and, just like you, i reached a moment when it all seemed to be a timely idea!" I thought, enough is enough. She'll either do, or not do, what I had suggested.

I began to yearn for the fucker between my legs to be Andy's, or rather Annie's, cock.

But then, I also longed for the fucker between my legs to be my cock, my very own.

I couldn't remember ever standing behind a client and thinking so intently about sex. My mind wandered a little too much and I became conscious that now she was talking and I hadn't heard a word she'd said! I was throbbing. "

"......... and so how would you change my style, if I'm to dress that way?......." she was asking. "........would you go for a crop? I mean, your hair is lovely, but it's slickednot cropped."

I fashioned a shorter, yet feminine, style but, when she asked me, I slicked it down the way mine had been that day. Off she went, looking forward to an interesting evening when she got home. little did her husband know what was coming! I'd told her, if it was to their liking, she might come in for a white blonde make-ove next time. I kinda expected I'd be seeing her the next week.

It went on the same way, until after lunch, with my pussy throbbing, I was startled when i heard: "What did you hear me say just then?" said one woman……… "Oh, I'm sorry, I was miles away!" I said, half apologizing, half resentful…….. (bad attitude)………

"I said don't take so much off cutting round the back there…..!" she was quite irate. "Don't tell me you were miles away!"

Oh dear, I should retreat and apologize properly…. but then something inside me said I shouldn't …… something man-ish…… something telling me to be masterful……. this woman should do as I tell her….. She was a new client to the salon and had just had Hayley do her a new colour — a deep shining burgundy shade.

"You'll look much better if we do as we agreed…… You liked the idea of a wedge-profile at the back, to emphasize your new colour…… I thought……… let's just go on and see — you'll like it, I'm sure." Gosh! I was taking control in a way like never before.

"But…." she started…….

"No buts! You will like it." I wasn't taking prisoners on this one. She should do as I told her.

And in the end, I was right. (….but not before I'd put the salon's reputation on the line). She did love the new cut and thanked me for pushing her to accept it. I found I had a client who would return. But I was left with a feeling that was rooted in the fucker between my legs. I thought about it and thought about it. I pictured its shape and the way the head was so life-like, and the life-like veins along its shaft. I felt for then as I squeezed the walls of my love-nest together.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmm……………………………..

At that moment, the telephone rang and the call was for me.

"Zoe... it's yours...... sounds like Andy, but not quite like Andy really...." Hayley said.

"Tell him I'll call him back!...." I said. I was due a break and so took my mobile phone into the rest area where currently no other staff were.

It was Andy of course, but he did sound different.....and it sounded like he had spent a wonderful morning.

Words poured out of him, so fast I thought I would drown…………….

"Can't imagine….. Sooooo sexy…… Undies…….. Putting them……. smoothing….. shaping…….. mirrors……. shoes… heels…. high enough……. shaping my legs…… Wonderful…… cosmetics…. foundation….. wasted — used too much - …… had to wash…. sorry to waste…… tried again…… got it better…. less IS more, you're right……. lovely silky feel on my skin…….. Blusher, too powdery…. can't get the hang of that……. eyeshadow…. now there's a joy…. spent hours playing…… such a difference….. eyes come to life…….. mmmmmmmmm...."

He paused for breath.... " ....mascara, trouble again….. bit of a set-back….. had to remove the eyeshadow and start again…… nearly poked my eye out….. smudged it….. cleaned it off again…….. then, at last……… got it right at last…… stunning! looked at the mirror again and again… can't believe…… and then the lipstick….. oh, my goodness…… absolute dream….!!

"So, you've enjoyed yourself, have you?" I asked.

"Oh, yesssss…..! Zoe... yesssss..!!" was his reply. "But how has your morning been?" He asked the good wife's question. "Oh it's been interesting, honey…. very different. And I'll tell you all about it later. The new look has certainly made an impression! One of the girls, Hayley, said she fancies me!

"Oh, she's the one I fancy there……. Oh, apart from you that is!" He said quickly, realizing a slip of the tongue.

"Well, maybe you'd be in luck — it seems she likes boyish girls so maybe she likes girly boys too!" Teasing him was something I was beginning to enjoy. "It'll be a long time before she meets you looking the way you are now. You are mine... and mine alone!" I had to move on. Andy needed instructions for the afternoon and I needed to get to my next client.

"How was the dryer? Have you removed all your rollers?" I needed to know as he had to take care of the hairstyle next.

"Yes, it was fine and I did as you suggested…. It's quite an experience sitting under the dome of the dryer, just reading a mag. I found one of your professional ones… one with dozens and dozens of hairstyles and colours in it. Some on celebs and lots done by stylists in salons like yours….. It was really a gorgeous way to spend half an hour or more…… I found several styles that you might agree — and I thought — might suit me."

That was significant. He had been reading for pleasure and found some hairstyles — female hairstyles — that would suit him…. He was now in the mind-set of considering his appearance and how to make the best of it.

"Some wouldn't 'cos my hair's too short now… but even those could work if I grew it longer. Anyway, I did find some interesting articles and photo montages that showed the coming years' fashions and, d'you know, I think I'd look better in last year's!! Specially the blouses and summer dresses. i think the colours are much less flattering this year."

He was actively thinking about dressing and the colours that would suit him. That was a real change! He had never looked in a magazine - even one for men - before. He was obviously pre-occupied with growing his hair…. what joy! I was going to suggest that we have a fashion show with his trying on many of my dresses and doing a 'cat walk' for me.... We would do that soon! buAs for his hair, I would love him to have longer hair, so that it would be more fun to work on him! Sooner rather than later, maybe!

"No time to talk about that now…. (I said stalling, playing for time!) There's your hair for today to deal with and, Annie, I'm expecting great things of you, honey!" That was true…… This was here and now and he had to do what was expected.

he interjected: "The curls are all un-rolled and they've cooled down well. I didn't get in a tangle at all when I took them out…….. It was really mesmerizing watching the way they took shape on my head after the rollers came out. I thought of you at work. You must do this every day on hundreds of women….."

"I do darling, I do… but you have to do this for yourself — like I do at home. You've watched me do it countless times…." Reassurance….. reassurance….. build his confidence……

"Yes, but never imagining I'd have to do it on my own hair….! You'll have to do it more times before I get good enough."

I had to take him through the process of turning his raw curls into a soft and flowing style that had body and femininity…… Although his hair wasn't long at that time, it would look perfectly acceptable if he did it right. And I wanted him to get the hang of doing it for him/herself. I spend my life cutting, rolling and blow-drying other women's hair. I do my own. He/she can do his/her own!

"You'll be fine, honey. Let me tell you how to make it easiest for you……. First, get yourself a drink and sit at the dressing table. You have got your undies on haven't you?" yes, he had, and some suspenders, stockings and shoes.

"OK, so now study the shape of your own face — you might not have done that for a while. Look at its shape and contours. Look at the way you look so very different without hair about the place. try to ignore the tight curls…. look at the face only for now. Think how it needs to be softened. Where do you need your hair to frame your face. Where are your best points that can be emphasized…. by putting hair elsewhere. You're creating more of yourself as an illusion by doing so."

(I realize now that I was getting over into a bit of psychology here… maybe a bit too deeply.)

"OK, OK, but what do I do with the curls!!???" He interrupted anxiously. Typical male!

"Cool it, honey…. I'll tell you now. You should first run your fingers through the curls… first of all because it will feel wonderful, and second, because it will loosen the rigid form of the curls themselves…. You have next to merge them into a complete whole… not a set of individual rolls.

Just stroke your scalp as the hair runs through your fingers. It's a beautiful feeling, for a beautiful girl like you, Annie."

There, I had said something that was 'over the line'. In these three days, I'd never called him a 'girl' before…… Maybe a mistake………

He hesitated. "Zoe.......Won't that spoil it?" Uncertainty crept in again…….

"No, my love, just do as I suggest — it's the way we always do it…. and when you've done it a few times, you'll find it really easy. This is how you learn to control your hair and make it really sexy."

"OK, if you say so……. what do I do then?"

"You stroke your stockings and feel the sensuality of them.... OK?!" I teased.

"It's different doing it for yourself to me doing it for you or another girl. You take the rolls you can't see, one-by-one, all around the nape of your neck, and you take the round brush and brish them through. One-by-one. You loosen the curl but keep its shape. You want a flattering softness to develop but with the shape of the curl maintained.

I was re-telling what my Hair & Beauty College lecturer had told me years ago. I had a mental picture of her, "tarted up to the nines" as they did in the 90's………. High blonde chignon, which I could even remember the colour….. Baby Blush from a Born Blonde range…. Clairol, I think — don't know if you can buy it now……

"Then, when they are feeling right, take the hand mirror and look att hem. Do they flow? Do they have shape? Are they feminine enough? Then, you should move up to the crown of your head. There will be six larger curls running round from ear to ear, then another six in a cluster around the crown itself……. Pick them up, again one by one and brush them gently through. Leave the first six as they are once you've done that….. they'll add volume enough lower on your head. The real volume comes from the last six. This is what will make the look so special on you."

"Th…th….thank you for making this so easy….. XZoe... I do love you....." ….he stammered. I could tell he was nervy about this part of the whole day. "I sooooo want to get this bit right. You know how much I love hair… everyone's hair… yours, mine…. every girls'…….. Thank you."

He showed a real desire then to get this right…. I loved him all the more for it….. After all, he was a passenger on this ride….. I was in the driving seat.

"Now, I have to go soon… I have to get back to work." I said. "There's one thing left to do with your hair…. spray it with clouds of hairspray to fix it in position. I'll run my fingers though it later just for fun but, until then, it needs fixing. Next, there are two or three things to be done before

I get home. You must eat and drink — a salad and a juice I suggest. You must practise eating and drinking without messing your lipstick! Remember what I do, every time, …..you must lick the glass to stop the lipstick staying on the galls, and you must eat with you mouth closed likewise, for the same reason. You must have faultless lipstick when I get home!. Tidy the home, make sure that there are treats around the place to discover when we're fucking….. make sure any toys you fancy are in place, within reach."

"OK." He understood. Preparation — for a night of endless fucking.

"Oh, and one thing, I didn't tell you. very soon after I get home, I want you to take off the pair of your jockey pants.......that I'm wearing now! There's a little surprise inside them for you!".

There, the promise was made…. The fucker had to stay where it was until home-coming! Though, he still didn't know what the surprise would be!

We closed the call with loving words. He remained nervy, evidently, but I did all I could to make him(her) feel good about what was in store……….

I returned to the salon and worked through the three women who were my clients for the afternoon. Thankfully, no late night working tonight. By 5.30pm, I was back in the car having learnt how difficult it is to pee whilst having a fucker in your pussy. Impossible!!!!

The car rolled through the traffic jams going home far too slowly for my liking. As it was growing dark, I was able to slip my hand inside my trouser fastening and explore the jockey pants. No wonder men had little joy from underwear like this. It was only sexy for me because I knew what he/she was wearing to greet me at home! How dull. How lucky we girls are to have wonderful undies to enjoy every day!

I looked in the car's rear-view mirror. I saw the androgynous face that I'd worn all day. The hair slicked back and still parted, razor-sharp from the crown to the hairline. I felt the fucker in my pussy, or rather the tip of my cock between my thighs…. now that would be a man's treat! The female—to-nearly male transformation I'd undergone today was an added, and until this morning completely unexpected bonus. One I'd like to explore more…….

I decide to call him/her from the car, to increase the expectation and sense of wanting……

He/she picked up the phone and, as soon as she heard my voice, promptly dropped it.

"I hope you like what you see…… I hope I've done it well…….. I can't wait to see you…… Please hurry…." was all I got from him.

Please help me with your feedback, dear Readers! Love, Zoe xxxx

A Wife's Indulgence chapter 6

by Zoe,

A friend of WannabeGinger's

My day at the salon had been enlightening. I came home a different woman, knowing that my husband would be a different man! Androgyny appealed to me more than I'd expected….. There were unexamined corners of our relationship that we might probe this evening. He/she, I knew, was nervous. I, too, as his wife, was nervous but also extremely excited! I couldn't wait to reach the driveway at home……

The Homecoming

The call on the phone was brief. I wanted his expectations to be accelerated. He had to know I was nearing home. When the car drew up, he would almost be having heart failure, his pulse racing for sure.

All day, I had been having the joy of squeezing the fucker that he didn't yet know was in my pussy. My pussy muscles were ready for the evening's entertainment. I would expect him to go down on me very soon after I got home and find the tip of the fucker there. I would have him explore all round it and suck it as if it were mine….. fully completing the girl/boy role.

As I thought of this, nearing home, I squeezed my thighs together yet again and, this time, sitting in the car seat, I was conscious that the fucker was on the move. Where there was just an inch or two outside before, the wetness allowed another inch or two to emerge. I had three or four inches of a cock between my thighs! I was getting a hard-on! Or it felt like it……. WOW! I wanted to get home and kiss his lovely lipstick-laden mouth………….. The jockey pants were stretching to breaking point. If I wasn't careful, I'd cum, I was certain of that.

Faced with the choice of stopping the car and indulging that temptation, or going the last mile or two to get home, I opted for the latter. I would get to cum a dozen times tonight, I was certain of that! The fucker remained as far emerged as it now was…. I could live with that. I looked in the mirror again…. man's hair, girl's face.

The car reached the house, almost on auto-pilot. I wanted to get my hands on him/her…. now! The horn sounded unintentionally as I opened the door. More cause for heart failure for him!

I put the key in the lock of the front door….. and entered.

At this point, I wasn't in control… for sure. Events would unfold in a way that I might fantasize would happen, or maybe dread. It would all go according to my (supposed) plan or it would all go horribly wrong like it did early last evening. I, an instant, I prayed it would go wildly and excessively well! And there he/she was!……….. Before me in the hallway.

Perhaps inevitably, I saw a guy in a girl's bedtime clothes…………. "Annie....." I said, you're gorgeous!". There he was. Praying for approval. It didn't matter at all. We would take care of the imperfections of his first attempts. In the long run, he would be girly enough - if not to "pass" - to be convincing, with me, at home.

His hair was flat….. Oh, damn, I thought, I'd forgotten in my hurry on the phone… I'd omitted to tell him to back-comb the crown to give it volume and height. It looked a little bit "mousey" - that would have to change and soon!

His make-up, in fact, was very well done indeed and so I complimented him there immediately.

"Darling, those eyes!!!" I exclaimed……. "….and those lips! Come here!"……. I ran to him and gathered him up with my arms around his waist. His arms were flung around my neck. Boy/girl clinch reversed.

I paused before kissing his lips, to accentuate the pleasure with a moment's more anticipation. My tongue passed across my lips, slowly. He mimicked this seductive little motion too.

Then we kissed, softly and gently at first, seductively on my part, and then flirtatiously on his.

At that minute, I was kinda glad that he was still a guy in my bedtime clothes…… Those three or four inches of the fucker between my legs were now clasped between my thighs. There was work to do and I felt good that I could make a significant improvement….. in a way, I guess he'd hoped I could even though he wanted so much to have my approval. His hair would be first —I had to admit my mistake in forgetting the back-combing. Then, I would take care of his eyeliner. Then he would need a lot of help in posture…. more than anything the way he was standing "shouted" uncomfortable!

"Ooooooh! Annie, I doooo love you!" I said, squeezing his waist. "Let me see your nails……."

Ahhh, there would be a need for help there too! He had tried his best I'm sure but there were traces of polish all over the place. The finger nails were god on his left hand but sadly misplaced polish surrounded the nails on his right.

"Trouble with being right-handed….." I said gently. "No worries, there's a technique you will learn. You did well with this one…" I continued, holding his left hand. "These are beautifully shaped and the colour is perfect. The shape on the left is good too — it's only the aim you're taking!" My hand strayed up his satin-covered arm.

"I wanted so much to get them right….. " He said hesitatingly. "…but no matter how hard I tried the polish wouldn't stay where I put it… Zoe, my hand wasn't steady and I guessed I was using too much. But it was exciting…. and that probably didn't help!"

The satin felt glorious to touch.

Confession! He was excited!

"It's very exciting darling, I'll put it right and show you a few tricks when I I've had a shower….. but before that, …. come here!" Another clinch, a prolonged and quite deep kiss this time. Hell, the lipstick would be ruined but that could be put right. I felt both our spirits rising….. and our cocks.

I slid my hand inside his dressing gown to feel for his tits. Inside… what joy! I found his lacy bra inside a satin camisole. "Oh, Myyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!" I purred. I stroked the skin over his flat smooth chest and rounded on the nipple, squeezing it hard and digging my own long finger-nails into the sensitive little button. I would eat that later!!! He recoiled but didn't object. His eyes flashed - the mascara making them dark and sultry, the bright blue colour of the shadow making them bright and enticing at the same time. "Oh, o..u..c..h……! He whispered.

I slapped his arse, quite hard, and said "Now, you make the Martinis — strong ones — and I'll take a shower. I'm going to have you for dinner tonight!" Stunned, because I'd never said anything like that before in our lives, he skipped away to do my bidding. I saw him go and thought about it. I really hadn't, had I? Ever. Told him that he was mine to have.

This must have been another example of the way I had been dressed all day, and the dildo grasped between my thighs, showing through in most butch behaviours. I was in control. He was doing as I told him. Partly, it was so that he would get a good fuck tonight. Partly, it was because he was being girly to my boyishness. Our roles were being reversed quite nicely thank you.

God! I felt horny at that moment. I felt the cock both inside me and outside me. Don't let anyone tell you that the 'G-spot' is mythical...... It's real! My pussy's lips were holding it fast. He did not know what was in store, but he'd soon find out! He might fear being penetrated with it at some stage but that was not in my mind at all. I would discard it and implore him to fuck me hard with his own cock to consummate the evening.

I stood in the shower, stroking my skin, smoothing the silky lotion over my whole body. slowly,

I explored my tits…. thinking how like my own his nipples had felt. He had no boobs, as such, but we could make him feel that he had in due course. I ran water through my hair which had been scalp-tight all day. Should I come out of character and re-do it my normal style? Or should I stay boyish for a while? Decisions, decisions!

Decided…. hair boyish, clothes girly in the extreme. Fresh make-up. Keep the dildo. That would be spicy. Like a guy in a dress… like he looked. I drilled a parting through my hair — razor sharp.

"Are the Martinis ready??" I called down the stairs. "I'll not be long, honey!"

"Ready and waiting." was his reply. I quickly dried my skin and powdered all over. I took the most feminine, flowing summer skirt from its hanger. No bra — not for me today. I took a fresh pair of jockey pants from his side drawer — the ones from the day were soooo damp. The dildo was still there and I couldn't resist a push and a pull! As it slowly slid over the lips of my pussy,

I shuddered with expectation of what was to come…. or cum! Not yet! Enough! I turned to the mirror and admired my own image. Beautiful flowing girly clothes topped with sleek hair and stunning make-up. "Cock" hidden. Shoes? Which shoes…….?? Boys' trainers (for oddity?) or heels (for seduction?)

Heels!

Down the stairs I strode, pausing briefly to locate him — he was in the lounge, sprawled across the sofa with his legs akimbo, showing more than a "glimpse of stocking"….. something shocking?, oh no! The peach satin fabric glistened. He looked wonderful. Still a guy in my undies, but wonderful.

I can remember it as if it were yesterday, now I'm writing the memories down. What a beautiful way to spend an evening!

As I reached the foot of the stairs, he stood and came over, again putting his arms around my neck 'girl on guy' style. "You look stunning, Zoe!", he murmured. His hands ran over the sleek hair at the back of my head and the nape of my neck. "Mmmmmmm…..!, he purred. I responded with my hands around his waist once more and our lips came together.

"I'll fix your eye make-up when we've enjoyed our Martinis, then I'll make more of your hair! OK?". I could hardly wait. Because he would be made to eat my pussy on the way to those delightful experiences.

I don't know what he was thinking of just then because these were promises we'd both looked forward to. I saw a flash of uncertainty in his eyes but then it was gone in a second…. and he didn't even know about the dildo yet!

When I began planning what we were doing, I had thought about a strap-on but I was very glad now that I hadn't done that. This was our own fucker that we'd shared many times… and oh! so many times had I cum with its delicious form inside me! It was only right that we should share it some more. It was there for an effect on his mind — to emphasize the strength of my commitment to him however he wanted to be girl, boy, boy/girl, or whatever.

""OK, whatever you say, my lover. Here's your Martini. You can take me anytime, ..anyplace, ..anywhere, as they once used to say."

"Let's take them upstairs…………………………..!"

We were on our way! I led him by the hand and, on reaching the fourth stair and standing above him, I sat down. "Now, …..I want you now! Eat me first! Please, darling!" I said hoarsely, the man in me coming through and the "man" in my pussy getting a hard squeeze. The folds of my dress were soon parted as he sank to his knees.

The jockey pants were revealed. The moment was about to arrive. God knows how I'd been waiting for this all day. His breathing was shallow, probably as he was close to cumming himself.

I felt his hair in my hands and grabbed hard — this one wasn't going to get away! I was in control.

His tongue felt its way along my thighs towards my pussy where it loved to play. His lipsticked lips leaving a trail no doubt as evidence! His hands stroked the backs of my knees. The jockey pants were a barrier. But he buried his face in there — as he often did into my lacy panties like the ones he was wearing now.

Then, he tumbled to the surprise…… "Wha…….!???... Zoe??" came from deep between my thighs…..

A split-second later, his head emerged and I saw mascara-laden, eyeshadowed eyes as he said "Ohhhhh, you beauty!!!…………………………………"

He tore at the jockey pants to expose the lips of my pussy and the clitoris that was begging to be creamed. He took my cock in his mouth and his lips closed around it. As I squeezed and the dildo pushed outwards, my erection was complete. He licked slowly to avoid gagging on my cock and I began to shudder uncontrollably as the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced came over me. My mind went blank for I-don't-know-how-long.

I'd left him behind and regretted that for a moment as I woke to find his head on my thigh and his tongue just reaching my clittie. I'd not waited… but I couldn't wait! Hours through the day meant I was cumming now, ready or not!!! Damn….. His breathing was slower now. I wondered if he'd cum in the meantime but it proved to be the case that he hadn't ejaculated. I noticed though that he was playing with one of his nipples as he kissed my love nest, his other hand stroking the satin of his camisole. "Zoe, my Zoe, you're a truly beautiful woman." was all he said.

We had to go on — to greater heights of ecstasy. I had to make sure we didn't lose this wonderful moment. Could we move? How could we move? I wanted my cock out and his cock in me. As I had these thoughts going through my mind, his tongue continued to have its effect and, sure enough, I was on my way to cumming again. My breath became short and my eyes closed as wave after wave of another orgasm engulfed me. God, he was good at this!!!!! knowing just what a woman wants.... Time and again, my body quivered as his tongue surrounded the now-superfluous dildo. I was cumming just from pure lust.

It seemed like hours later that I slid the dildo out into my hand, wiping it across his lips before taking it to my own mouth to enjoy the taste the juices of my own cum. Not a word was spoken beyond my own two words……

"Annie... It's....... Your turn!…………………….."

Stroking the satin, I slipped the dressing gown from his shoulders. And so we climbed the stairs. His satin gown was now left behind us and his camisole, bra, panties, suspenders and stockings created the image of the girl I was about to mouth-fuck.

Wrong! As we reached the bedroom, his hands took over, swinging me towards the bed. The dildo dropped beside the bed. The martinis were spilled. In a moment, he was above me as I lay on my back. He was fighting the lace of my panties around his cock. Soon it was free and he was able to enter me, submerge in me, drown in me. He grabbed handfuls of my hair as he rested on his arms.

I had this girl on top of me, her hair curled, her eyes bright and dark the same time. Her lacy bra and silky camisole in my hands. Her stockings and suspenders rubbing down my thighs. Thrusting into me. Her cock was fairly firm but not huge and hard. Nothing like the fucker before it. But then, I thought in a lucid moment, a girl shouldn't have a full cock to fuck with - and nor really should this boy/girl I loved so much.

"Then, before, I was a girl… now I'm your guy." He said forcefully. I was no longer in control. For a while, he could lead. He could be in control. He could dominate if he so wanted. Looking as girly as he did, the wonderful confusion of our genders was complete.

In the after-glow we relaxed in the lounge. Our make-up restored and our exhausted bodies recuperating. There are no words to describe the feelings then. Looking back from months ahead, where we are now, this was an earth-shattering day in out relationship. It set the tone for the future that, thank heaven, goes on.

We're still together and we're loving the way we're able to love eachother. He is still "she" occasionally — like once or twice every week — and I'm in androgynous mode maybe once a week. But without that day, who knows what might have been? Remember, only the day before, he was a wreck having wanked himself senseless whilst I was at work. So much better to have reclaimed my plan and given him this day's preparations to make while I was at work.

There are many other things to tell you, my Reader, like how we have created a wardrobe for him/her, and how our role reversal works in practice. That's for a later chapter. I have to go on……

We recovered over another Martini and I moved to suggest that we make something more of his hair — to put right my mistake earlier. We then had to work on his fingernails. Advice on his posture would wait for another day. He was still lounging there like a guy would do but no matter.

"Your hair, my darling…." I whispered. "You did really well with the comb-out, and I have to apologize for forgetting one thing - we need to back-comb the crown to give you some lift and volume. We'll leave the curls lower down as you've made them… all petal-like laying on one another. Beautiful. But the crown needs some serious back-combing!"

"I can't wait, lover." he murmured.

Readers’ comments have helped me revise this chapter, and the subsequent ones…. So, please, if you think you’ve read this before — and you may have — give it another chance; you’ll find more ‘dressing’ and maybe less ‘hairdressing’ which many of you seem to prefer. LOL, Zoe xx

A Wife's Indulgence chapter 6

by Zoe,

A friend of WannabeGinger's

My day at the salon had been enlightening. I came home a different woman, knowing that my husband Andy would be a different man! Androgyny appealed to me more than I'd expected… There were unexamined corners of our relationship that we might probe this evening. He/she, Andy/Annie, I knew, was nervous. I, too, as his wife, was nervous but also extremely excited!

I couldn't wait to reach the driveway at home……

The Homecoming

The mobile call on the phone was brief. I wanted his expectations to be accelerated. He had to know I was nearing home. When the car drew up, he would almost be having heart failure, his pulse racing for sure. He knew what I expected of him/her. Annie was to be there, already for bed. She had to choose some of my most feminine lingerie. I hoped she would choose well. I fancied being led t oblivion by a beautiful girl tonight…… “See you very soon, lover!” I said.

All day, I had been having the joy of squeezing the fucker that he didn't yet know was in my pussy. My pussy muscles were ready for the evening's entertainment. I would expect Annie to go down on me very soon after I got home and find the tip of the fucker there. I would have him explore all round it and suck it as if it were mine….. fully completing the girl/boy role.

As I thought of this, nearing home, I squeezed my thighs together yet again and, this time, sitting in the car seat, I was conscious that the fucker was on the move. Where there was just an inch or two outside before, the wetness allowed another inch or two to emerge. I had three or four inches of a cock between my otherwise girly thighs! I was getting a hard-on! Or it felt like it……. WOW! I wanted to get home and kiss Annie’s lovely lipstick-laden mouth………….. The jockey pantsI’d stolen from his bedroom drawers were stretching to breaking point. If I wasn't careful, I'd cum, I’d cum…… I was certain of that.

Faced with the choice of stopping the car and indulging that temptation, or going the last mile or two to get home, I opted for the latter. I would get to cum a dozen times tonight, I was certain of that! The fucker remained as far emerged as it now was…. I could live with that. I looked in the mirror again…. man's hair, girl's face. I had been dressed in his clothes all day — and I had enjoyed the feeling… the feeling of being in control.

The car reached the house, almost on auto-pilot. I wanted to get my hands on him/her…. now! The horn sounded unintentionally as I opened the door. More cause for heart failure for him!

I put the key in the lock of the front door….. and entered.

At this point, I really wasn't in control… for sure. Events would unfold in a way that I might fantasize would happen, or maybe dread. It would all go according to my (supposed) plan or it would all go horribly wrong like it did early last evening. I, an instant, I prayed it would go wildly and excessively well! And there he/she was!……….. Before me in the hallway. Looking stunning. There was Annie, my husband.

Perhaps inevitably, I saw a guy in a girl's bedtime clothes…………. "Annie....." I said, “…you're gorgeous!". There he was. Praying for approval. It didn't matter at all. We would take care of the imperfections of his first attempts. In the long run, he would be girly enough - if not to "pass" - to be convincing, with me, at home.

The nightdress was perfect, hiding his bum, but not reaching her knees. The shape of the breast panels was inviting and his nipples were upstanding, unusually so; asking to be tweaked. He wore garters and stockings in pure white. I would get closer to those later! Over the top, his satin dressing gown made for a slinky finish.

His hair was flat….. Oh, damn, I thought, I'd forgotten in my hurry on the phone… I'd omitted to tell him to back-comb the crown to give it volume and height. It looked a little bit "mousey" - that would have to change and soon!

His make-up, in fact, was very well done indeed and so I complimented Annie there immediately.

"Darling, those eyes!!!" I exclaimed……. "….and those lips! Come here!"……. I ran to him and gathered him up with my arms around his waist. His arms were flung around my neck. Boy/girl clinch reversed.

I paused before kissing his lips, to accentuate the pleasure with a moment's more anticipation. My tongue passed across my lips, slowly. He mimicked this seductive little motion too, her lips glistening with saliva.

Then we kissed, softly and gently at first, seductively on my part, and then flirtatiously on his.

At that minute, I was kinda glad that he was still a guy in my bedtime clothes…… Those three or four inches of the fucker between my legs were now clasped between my thighs. There was work to do and I felt good that I could make a significant improvement….. in a way, I guess he'd hoped I could even though he wanted so much to have my approval. His hair would be first — I had to admit my mistake in forgetting the back-combing. Then, I would take care of his eyeliner. Then he would need a lot of help in posture…. more than anything the way he was standing "shouted" uncomfortable!

"Ooooooh! Annie, I doooo love you!" I said, squeezing his waist. "Let me see your nails……."

Ahhh, there would be a need for help there too! He had tried his best I'm sure but there were traces of polish all over the place. The finger nails were good on his left hand but sadly misplaced polish surrounded the nails on his right.

"Trouble with being right-handed….." I said gently. "No worries, there's a technique you will learn. You did well with this one…" I continued, holding his left hand. "These are beautifully shaped and the colour is perfect. The shape on the left is good too — it's only the aim you're taking!" My hand strayed up his satin-covered arm.

"I wanted so much to get them right….. " He said hesitatingly. "…but no matter how hard I tried the polish wouldn't stay where I put it… Zoe, my hand wasn't steady and I guessed I was using too much. But it was exciting…. and that probably didn't help!"

The satin felt glorious to touch.

Confession! He was excited!

"It's very exciting darling, I'll put it right and show you a few tricks when I I've had a shower….. but before that, …. come here!" Another clinch, a prolonged and quite deep kiss this time. Hell, the lipstick would be ruined but that could be put right. I felt both our spirits rising….. and our cocks. He still didn’t know…….. I had a cock waiting for her!

I slid my hand inside his dressing gown to feel for his tits. Inside… what joy! I found his lacy bra inside the satin nightie. "Oh, Myyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!" I purred. I stroked the skin over his flat smooth chest and rounded on the nipple, squeezing it hard and digging my own long finger-nails into the sensitive little button. I would eat that later!!! He recoiled but didn't object. His eyes flashed - the mascara making them dark and sultry, the bright blue colour of the shadow making them bright and enticing at the same time. "Oh, o..u..c..h……! He whispered.

I slapped his arse, quite hard, and said "Now, you make the Martinis — strong ones — and I'll take a shower. I'm going to have you for dinner tonight!" Stunned, because I'd never said anything like that before in our lives, he skipped away to do my bidding. I saw him go and thought about it. I really hadn't, had I? Ever. Told him that he was mine to have.

This must have been another example of the way I had been dressed all day, and the dildo grasped between my thighs, showing through in most butch behaviours. I was back in control. He was doing as I told him. Partly, it was so that he would get a good fuck tonight. Partly, it was because he was being girly to my boyishness. Our roles were being reversed quite nicely thank you.

God! I felt horny at that moment. I felt the cock both inside me and outside me. Don't let anyone tell you that the 'G-spot' is mythical...... It's real! My pussy's lips were holding it fast. He did not know what was in store, but he'd soon find out! When Annie saw it, she might fear being penetrated with it at some stage, but that was not in my mind at all. I would discard it and implore him to fuck me hard with his own cock to consummate the evening.

I stood in the shower, stroking my skin, smoothing the silky lotion over my whole body. slowly,

I explored my tits…. thinking how like my own his nipples had felt. He had no boobs, as such, but we could make him feel that he had in due course. I ran water through my hair which had been scalp-tight all day. Should I come out of character and re-do it my normal style? Or should I stay boyish for a while? Decisions, decisions!

Decided…. hair boyish, clothes girly in the extreme.

Fresh make-up. Keep the dildo. That would be spicy. Like a guy in a dress… like he looked. I drilled a parting through my hair — razor sharp.

"Are the Martinis ready??" I called down the stairs. "I'll not be long, honey!"

"Ready and waiting, Zoe." was his reply. I quickly dried my skin and powdered all over. I took the most feminine, flowing summer skirt from its hanger. No bra — not for me today. I took a fresh pair of jockey pants from his side drawer — the ones from the day were soooo damp. The dildo was still there and I couldn't resist a push and a pull! As it slowly slid over the lips of my pussy,

I shuddered with expectation of what was to come…. or cum! Not yet! Enough! I turned to the mirror and admired my own image. Beautiful flowing girly clothes, topped with sleek hair and stunning make-up. "Cock" hidden. Shoes? Which shoes…….?? Boys' trainers (for oddity?) or heels (for seduction?)

Heels!

Down the stairs I strode, pausing briefly to locate him — he was in the lounge, sprawled across the sofa with his legs akimbo, showing more than a "glimpse of stocking"….. something shocking?, Oh no! The peach satin fabric glistened. He looked wonderful. Still a guy in my undies, but wonderful.

I can remember it as if it were yesterday, now I'm writing the memories down. What a beautiful way to spend an evening!

As I reached the foot of the stairs, he stood and came over, again putting his arms around my neck 'girl on guy' style. "You look stunning, Zoe!", he murmured. His hands ran over the sleek hair at the back of my head and the nape of my neck. "Mmmmmmm…..!, he purred. I responded with my hands around his waist once more and our lips came together.

"I'll fix your eye make-up when we've enjoyed our Martinis, then I'll make more of your hair! OK?". I could hardly wait. Because he would be made to eat my pussy on the way to those delightful experiences.

I don't know what he was thinking of just then because these were promises we'd both looked forward to. I saw a flash of uncertainty in his eyes but then it was gone in a second…. and he didn't even know about the dildo yet!

When I began planning what we were doing, I had thought about a strap-on but I was very glad now that I hadn't done that. This was our own fucker that we'd shared many times… and oh! so many times had I cum with its delicious form inside me! It was only right that we should share it some more. It was there for an effect on his mind — to emphasize the strength of my commitment to him however he wanted to be girl, boy, boy/girl, or whatever.

""OK, whatever you say, my lover. Here's your Martini. You can take me anytime, ..anyplace, ..anywhere, as they once used to say."

"Let's take them upstairs…………………………..!"

We were on our way! I led him by the hand and, on reaching the fourth stair and standing above him, I sat down. "Now, …..I want you now! Eat me first! Please, darling!" I said hoarsely, the man in me coming through and the "man" in my pussy getting a hard squeeze. The folds of my dress were soon parted as he sank to his knees.

The jockey pants were revealed. The moment was about to arrive. God knows how I'd been waiting for this all day. His breathing was shallow, probably as he was close to cumming himself.

I felt his hair in my hands and grabbed hard — this one wasn't going to get away! I was in control.

His tongue felt its way along my thighs towards my pussy where it loved to play. His lipsticked lips leaving a trail no doubt as evidence! His hands stroked the backs of my knees. The jockey pants were a barrier. But he buried his face in there — as he often did into my lacy panties like the ones he was wearing now.

Then, he tumbled to the surprise…… "Wha…….!???... Zoe??" came from deep between my thighs…..

A split-second later, his head emerged and I saw mascara-laden, eyeshadowed eyes as he said "Ohhhhh, you beauty!!!…………………………………"

“Annie, you’re just perfect…” was all I was able to say. She looked all of the woman I wanted her to be tonight.

He tore at the jockey pants to expose the lips of my pussy and the clitoris that was begging to be creamed. He took my cock in his mouth and his lips closed around it. As I squeezed and the dildo pushed outwards, my erection was complete. He licked slowly to avoid gagging on my cock and I began to shudder uncontrollably as the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced came over me. My mind went blank for I-don't-know-how-long.

His tongue traced the lips of my wonderful wet vagina, teasing the most sensitive areas just the way she would want if she were a girl. She just knew how to do that!

I'd left him behind and regretted that for a moment as I woke to find his head on my thigh and his tongue just reaching my clittie. I'd not waited… but I couldn't wait! Hours through the day meant I was cumming now, ready or not!!! Damn….. His breathing was slower now. I wondered if he'd cum in the meantime but it proved to be the case that he hadn't ejaculated. I noticed though that he was playing with one of his nipples as he kissed my love nest, his other hand stroking the satin of his camisole. "Zoe, my Zoe, you're a truly beautiful woman." was all he said.

We had to go on — to greater heights of ecstasy. I had to make sure we didn't lose this wonderful moment. Could we move? How could we move? I wanted my cock out and his cock in me. As I had these thoughts going through my mind, his tongue continued to have its effect and, sure enough, I was on my way to cumming again. My breath became short and my eyes closed as wave after wave of another orgasm engulfed me. God, he was good at this!!!!! Knowing just what a woman wants.... Time and again, my body quivered as his tongue surrounded the now-superfluous dildo. I was cumming just from pure lust.

It seemed like hours later that I slid the dildo out into my hand, wiping it across his lips before taking it to my own mouth to enjoy the taste the juices of my own cum. Not a word was spoken beyond my own two words……

"Annie... It's....... Your turn!…………………….."

Stroking the satin, I slipped the dressing gown from his shoulders. And so we climbed the stairs. His satin gown was now left behind us and his nightie, bra, panties, suspenders and stockings created the image of the girl I was about to mouth-fuck.

Wrong! As we reached the bedroom, his hands took over, swinging me towards the bed. The dildo dropped beside the bed. The Martinis were spilled. In a moment, he was above me as I lay on my back. He was fighting the lace of my panties around his cock. Soon it was free and he was able to enter me, submerge in me, drown in me. He grabbed handfuls of my hair as he rested on his arms.

I had this girl on top of me, her hair curled, her eyes bright and dark the same time. Her lacy bra and silky camisole in my hands. Her stockings and suspenders rubbing down my thighs. Thrusting into me. Annie’s cock was fairly firm but not huge and hard. Nothing like the fucker before it. But then, I thought in a lucid moment, a girl shouldn't have a full cock to fuck with - and nor really should this boy/girl I loved so much.

"Then, before, I was a girl… now I'm your guy." He said as forcefully as he knew how. I was no longer in control. For a while, he could lead. He could be in control. He could dominate if he so wanted. Looking as girly as he did, the wonderful confusion of our genders was complete.

In the after-glow we relaxed in the lounge. Our make-up restored and our exhausted bodies recuperating. There are no words to describe the feelings then. Looking back from months ahead, where we are now, this was an earth-shattering day in out relationship. It set the tone for the future that, thank heaven, goes on.

We're still together and we're loving the way we're able to love eachother. He is still "she" occasionally — like once or twice every week — and I'm in androgynous mode maybe once a week. But without that day, who knows what might have been? Remember, only the day before, he was a wreck having wanked himself senseless whilst I was at work. So much better to have reclaimed my plan and given him this day's preparations to make while I was at work.

There are many other things to tell you, my Reader, like how we have created a wardrobe for him/her, and how our role reversal works in practice. That's for a later chapter. I have to go on……

We recovered over another Martini and I moved to suggest that we make something more of his hair — to put right my mistake earlier. We then had to work on his fingernails. Advice on his posture would wait for another day. He was still lounging there like a guy would do but no matter.

"Your hair, my darling…." I whispered. "You did really well with the comb-out, and I have to apologize for forgetting one thing - we need to back-comb the crown to give you some lift and volume. We'll leave the curls lower down as you've made them… all petal-like laying on one another. Beautiful. But the crown needs some serious back-combing!"

"I can't wait, lover." he murmured.

A Wife's Indulgence chapter 7

by Zoe, a friend of WannabeGinger's

The best day of my life was unfolding. Pausing for breath before still more intense love-making, as we laid back with our Martinis, I, Zoe, considered the future. We, Annie and me, couldn't survive if we were going to fuck like this every day.

Moderation in all things!

I'd have to create the way towards this being a regular part of our lives. Until then, we should make the most of the uncontrolled lust that had overwhelmed us.

I took Annie's hands and studied them. "Nails first." I decided for him. No choice. "Then I'll add something to those eyes… those pretty eyes. Then we'll finish off your hair and your can parade for me. Show yourself off a little, my girl." The dominant male was consigned to memory for a while. I wanted him back as my girl. The light hairs on his forearms were soft to the touch as I prepared to complete his manicure. Hang up the phones!! I thought!

The nail polish was an easy task. Some acetone and a cotton pad. They were cleaned up within a minute. The polish was located and the bottle opened. That wonderful smell pervaded the surroundings. I sometimes could swear that I smelled it in my sleep. Sooooo sexy.

I took hold of his right hand — the one that suffered from his 'cack-handedness' and very slowly I put two separate and quite thin coats of polish on each nail. He turned his hands around and admired them. Obviously comparing my work with his own…. "Zoe, my darling, I think I did very well… considering!", he rejoiced. His hands would make him an asset in his future days as a girl.

"Now, turn towards me...... away from the mirror, honey. I'm going to transform your eyes. You've done wonderfully well with the mascara and the eyeshadow. You've succeeded in bringing together total femininity with a kinda "come-n'-get-it" look. Your eyes were the first thing I saw when I came in the house. So, I come and got it!!!!" He blushed, and turned his chair away from the vanity unit. “You need eyeliner now, Andy” I said, reminding him of who he was……

He blushed, visibly….

I reached for the creamy liquid eyeliner that I'd planned to emphasize his look with. My face closed in towards his. I could feel his breath on my cheek. "Close your eyes now and keep them closed." Up close and personal, this was. Removing the brush, its pointed tip laden with dark black colour and I swept it across the two eyelids. First the right, then the left. He would be expecting something special.

As if the black were not enough, I then reached for another pot of colour and removed another pointed brush. This one was coated with a vivid blue that also sparkled in the spotlight above the mirror. A blue flash across his eyes as well! It complemented the eyeshadow beautifully.

"Keep those eyes closed! Annie... no peeking! You'll ruin the effect." I said shortly… I wasn't finished yet. His lipstick needed attention. All the kissing had worn it away somewhat. It needed freshening for what I hoped would come later. As I toughed his upper lip with the stick, he smiled broadly. "That's the way! The wider the smile, the fuller the lips!" was my response.

I turned him back to the mirror so he could admire my work with the eyeliners. Standing behind him. "Wonderful!"…., we said in unison.

What to do with is hair? It was several hours since it had been washed. The drying process for the curls round his crown was long since forgotten. The rest of his head bore superbly folded curls. But they were rather flat. Otherwise, somehow, the fucking hadn't disturbed them much.

The top was flat and somehow lifeless, largely because it was there that I'd grabbed his hair in mid-fuck. There was no style about it. I had to re-do the crown to make the best of his look tonight.

"You'll hate me for this…." I said, "….but I've got to put some of your hair back in rollers for a while." There was no question. This would regenerate the intimacy of earlier moments. As I did what I had to do to arrange the equipment, I was conscious of moving around for the first time without the cock in my pussy. There were no jockey pants here either. As I moved across the room, cool air wafted over my love nest and I was moved to twirl as a girl would do.

"Strictly Cum Dancing!" Andy chipped in, laughing out loud. "You're right, I'll hate you for that so get on with it and do your worst!"

"You wait, my boy! You'll have such backcombing after this you'll not be able to leave the room!" His crown hair that was about four inches long in those days would look great.

"Next thing, you'll have me sleeping in them, I guess." he chipped back.

"If that's your bag, boy…. You're on…. tonight!" He teased me, so that was a promise! And it was Annie's idea!

Looking into the mirror, he was forced to watch me wet his top hair and start to roll up the curls that would eventually adorn the style and make it memorable. Only six or seven rollers were needed. They were tight……. so he felt every move. Then I turned the hand drier on to full power and heat — none of the cool and slower drying under the domed hood. This was urgent.

The hair cooked quickly, changing colour back from dark to lighter as it dried. It took a few minutes. Soon, I was able to remove the rollers. I did so slowly, looking him in the eyes in the mirror as I did so……… Emphasizing that I was again in total control…….. His eyes were riveted to the image before him. He was deep in thought. His hands continued to stroke the satin of his camisole and he occasionally traced the lacy outline of his bra. Feeling very girly, no doubt.

He whispered, slowly and deliberately, "Zoe....... You know you could penetrate me with your cock if you want. I mean, if you want to carry on where we were going… before …….."

"Before you fucked me, you beautiful man!" I interrupted him.

So, he was going for this in a big way. But that wasn't in my plan at all………

"Well, yes, and you must know - er….. I have to say it again…. I'm only interested in you, darling… I'd expect people to say I was homosexual saying you can fuck me but I'm not……. I'm your guy, and your girl, and if that means………" His sentence trailed off. This was serious.

I had to reassure his again about my view of his sexuality.

"You beautiful, beautiful man!!!! Andy…. Annie! I can't imagine fucking anyone else! But for now, you'll do the fucking - or you'll fuck me with our fucker. The one we share."

The curls, no longer in their rollers, lay on his head. I seized one and ran a brush through it from end to end. I held it as high as it would go. Then I took a comb and began to work on it…. back, back, down, down to the root. As it developed into a cloud, I swept it to one side. Grasping a second curl, I did the same, sweeping it to the other side as I finished.

Three, four and five followed. The hair from these needed to be paced and spayed with hairspray before the last two were done. They gave him at least two and a half inches extra height before the curls swept over to make the final silhouette.

Curls six and seven I folded left and right across the front, to make a Sixties "feather style" — less back-combing and more substance to the rolls. I sprayed them and put long hairpins in. If hairstyles had titles, this would be "Touch me if you dare" …. and touch it I would… later! His hands continued to trace lines across the soft, silky lingerie that covered his body and his thighs. I paused, to join him, tracing the line of lace that defined the breast areas. Annie would be needing tits.. before long!

Throughout, his eyes had been fixed on mine and the way my hands were moving through his hair. He was studying his own image as it changed… from "guy with curls" to "girly". His make-up somehow ensured that the final look was "all girl"…. so different to when I got home. I had, indeed, had an effect. The bright blue slash across his eyelids intrigued me. The black eyeliner only serving to push the blue "in yer face".

My work was complete. My labour of love. I stood back, allowing the folds of my skirt to brush across his satin-covered back. I couldn't resist picking up the straps of his bra and the shoulders of his nightie and sliding my hands on to his shoulders.

"You're really pretty, sitting there, you know." I whispered so quietly he almost didn't hear.

I was falling in love all over again, but this time with a girl….. or a boy/girl if you insist…. This love was as deep as I felt for him when he was "just a boy". Now he had an added dimension which I found immensely attractive. Not just in terms of sex. It was opening a new sphere of caring — caring for another female entity…… The body was the same, but the way it worked was different. His responses to my initiatives when dressed this way seemed to be different to the way we are when we are girl and boy. He, as she, as Annie, was (and remains) softer and more lovable somehow. I guess I must have changed a lot in those first three days. Maybe I was becoming a lot less soft and lovable. Maybe we'll have to ask him…………

"Touch me if you dare hair" it was and I dared…… I reached up again and let the back of my hand caress his hair where the tighter curls were to be found beneath the crown and above the nape of his neck. Those shoulders were vulnerable. They invited a kiss. The hair was fragrant. It, too, invited me to bury my face within it. I stood behind him/her….. Had I chosen, and had the dildo been to hand, I could have taken him there and then. The temptation to fuck the boy of my dreams was growing stronger and I knew it had to be resisted.

Three days not yet complete but we had travelled miles along my road. I had a feminized husband in the making. How far and how fast to go? At this rate, he'd be living full time as a girl by the weekend! We have to go easy.

I turned him to face me and took one of his hands and pulled it towards my neck. I got him to run it over my smoothed down hair.

"Set my hair for me, please. I want to go curly again. Spiral curls on tiny rollers. You can do it."

This should be a way to give him a different focus. To calm the lust we both were indulging. To give a rest and change direction. To put thoughts of fucking him out of my mind — and his if he were dreaming that way. It was enough to know I could.

"Let me try without instructions first."

"Well, would you mind if I changed before you begin?" I asked, wanting to get into my bedclothes as a prelude to more rampant sex later. I'd choose black, with the red ribbon trimmings and a pair of the highest heels I possessed. "Why not?", he mused…… to which I had no answer.

I was wearing next to nothing so the change took no time at all. Off came my floaty summer dress and there was nothing more to remove. I was naked with only a pair of shoes. These I changed for the high black stilettos and I crossed the bedroom floor to select the nightie from the wardrobe. Indeed, black, lacy and sheer, with red ribbon trimmings it was. A whore's "special" it looked.

Now I was ready to be his whore. But he was still in stockings and suspenders, a bra and camisole.

So, I had to be her whore. After all, why shouldn't lesbians have whores?

"Let's play games!" I said returning to the dressing table…………

The rollers were tiny and they were to be tightly tied. He/she sprayed my hair before taking strands up and on to them. There were dozens. It took rather longer than I expected but the effect was maintained. The eye contact through the mirror was intense and continuous. By the time he was done, with a directional styling pattern that meant the curls would all spiral southwards when unfurled. It was time for another martini…….. and to feed eachother with treats.

He had done as I instructed?, leaving treats around the house for me to find? He had!

"Go look for them, now." He/she demanded. In the bedroom, there were few places to hide. I looked through the wardrobes but found nothing — except the idea for what he might dress in later…….. I looked behind curtains and on high shelves, only to find what he'd placed on a side table out of sight from the bed. A plate of ice with four oysters embedded upon it! The food of love — if you don't count music, that is! I had never eaten an oyster whole until that day. Whether they have aphrodisiac properties, I can't say, but we've celebrated special sex days with them ever since. Not Martini now — cold, cold chardonnay.

As I brought the plate to him, he was again squeezing at his nipples. "Let me try that, please" was all I could say. "Eat an oyster off them then!", he challenged me. So I did.

Having eaten the oyster, I turned my lips back to his nipple and gave it a gentle but distinct bite……

"oh, o..u..c..h…!" (again) he said.

"There's more…..", he began. "Oysters?…." I asked. "No, treats…… go find 'em!", Annie teased.

Not in the bedroom, so where?? I couldn't guess.

"In the bathroom."

I looked everywhere, eventually finding a huge cock-shaped carrot which made me die laughing!!! "Did you say I could have you????" I giggled. "Not with that!", she roared in mock horror.

What would this "lady's whore" be expected to do next, I wondered.

"You'll find some crudités with avocado in the lounge……. I want to lick the sauce from your belly button and you can choose where you lick some from on me." And Annie disappeared…. Where was she going? I went to the lounge as instructed. Where to put the sauce on her????

The "small" of his back, above the "bikini line". That's where my tongue would go! Face down on the floor where a luxurious long rug was laid out.

He returned with more of the wine. She sat on the sofa and beckoned me over. "You look wonderful with your hair like that." He said this, admiring his handywork with the tiny rollers that would make my curls….. and make my day!

"Yours does too, honey." was my honest reply, looking at my own back-combing skills. Heavens… I was beginning to share this fetish he has for hair, in all its shapes and shades.

"Lay down…….", he indicated the sofa…….. And I did. He raised the hem of my nightie so that my abdomen was his to do with it what he wanted. The vision of his hair, make-up and underwear provoked such confusion in my mind. I knew it was he and yet, he looked even more like she! And then she/he took fingerfuls of the creamy sauce and put it in my belly button. I t was cold, having been in the chiller. Involuntarily, I flinched. A shiver spread across my body and tiny goosebumps appeared everywhere! "You make me purrrrrrrrrrrr!" I said, covering myself in the shock……….. "Do me some more!".

Immediately, his face — with its lips shining and its eyes blazing beneath curled and back-combed hair — sank towards my tummy. His tongue emerged between those wonderful lips and I felt on the point of orgasm just looking at him/her. The sauce on his lower back followed with equal impact.

An hour later, having discovered several other delicacies around the house, between intervals of almost casual fucking, we lay back on the bed and talked. It proved to be more sexy than could be imagined. We talked about eachother, and ourselves, and our self-image….. and the confusion we were introducing. A Psychologist would say we were bonding with the past experiments and making them acceptable…. as a prelude to what was to be the way it would be from here on, between us.

"What made you think of us doing this?", Annie enquired, almost studiously.

"My love of being a girl…… and recognizing that you have this delightful side to your "being" that meant you'd be willing to share it."

"How could you be sure of that Zoe?", he said, doubtfully.

"I couldn't — it could've all gone wrong… and it nearly did."

"I can't promise it won't again…. this is wonderful, but it is a bit extreme…..", she confessed.

"OK, if you feel that coming over you, tell me. It'll be alright…. really….. We should do only what we both want to do…… Suggestions welcome of course! We'll ride any storm. That's what girlfriends do for eachother....... Will you be my girlfriend? Annie... Will you?!"

Annie purred quietly and, without a word, indicated a very positive acceptance of the invitation. Her tongue reached toward my nearest ear-lobe and then traced itself up into my hair-line and down behind my jaw-line.

My new girlfriend smiled quietly, as if reflecting on the uncertainty that under-lay his last words….

Annie would probably break with the whole idea more than once in the days and months to come. What was important in my plan — and this talk was helping to reinforce this — what was important was we could recover. I could still have this vulnerable "girl" in my arms.

"I know it doesn't mean you're gay - I hate that word — you're not going to get carried away and go off hunting men to sleep with. I know that…….." Annie needed reassurance. I went on. To give her ...... More reassurance. "I've never understood why a homosexual man would want to shack up with a guy who's special love is cross-dressing. And you're clearly not 'trapped in a man's body' like some TG people say they are. You're just finding out the joys of cross-dressing. It's that simple."

"Mmmmmmmmm…………", he purred, stroking the lace of his bra. His cock rising again.

"So what about you?", my question putting the ball in his court. "What made you receptive to the whole idea?" I would appreciate knowing where to direct further ideas so they'd be acceptable to him/her. "There's been some reluctance, but there's also been a great deal of very willing indulgence!" I smiled lovingly, touching the fringe of his hair and the curls either side of his face.

"Oh, long story — long ago....." She paused........ "I've always had this fetish for hair and girly things . Ever since college days. Clothes are part of that I guess. Girls' clothes. I've not told you all the details but you know I was heavily involved with one girl then — and several mutual friends. She was 'Ginger' because of her natural hair…… Where you're "auburn" and I love it, she was very 'ginger' and I loved that too."

I knew a bit about that time in his life — I knew he'd cross-dressed briefly — a few weeks, or months? How else did I know that he'd found mascara difficult?! He went on to tell me more and how, some time later, the relationship with Ginger had finished….. and how he had "put the CD idea in its box and (thought he had) thrown away the key."

I wanted him to know — as he surely did — that I wanted him now both as a man and as a woman. For as long and as often as he would be happy.

"Darling, tonight is being wonderful, I know you agree. But you must know that you have the choice — when to be a boy and when to be girly…. I'll say it again. No pressure. I just love you either way — and I love your special 'extra' package that no other girl I know possesses."

He interrupted. "Zoe…. I love it enough to ask if I can have some things of my own…. to keep out in the open, just between us. I don't want anyone else to know — this is private stuff."

That was a "crossing point" — into another phase… and far sooner than my plan envisaged! It might have taken three months if I was lucky, I had thought… but three days!!!???

"Oooooh! Sure we can — I'd love it if you could - We could go shopping, couldn't we? I happily enthused.

"Just undies, …and make-up, you know. No outside clothes. I've no need to go out and 'BE' Annie for anyone else but you. I want to be a girl just for you!". He was emphatic. His cock was clearly throbbing.

This is the way it's to be. WOW! prayers answered, I thought.

We lay there, continuing to talk.

"How does it make you feel when you've dressed like this? I'm intrigued to know… because I've felt very different today and I've only been half as far as you have!" I genuinely wanted to know, because there had been an effect on my behaviour today — and all I'd done was wear his jockey pants and a shirt and tie…….. Oh, and I'd done my hair differently, of course.

"Your er... assertiveness… has been a significant part of my acceptance of this." Annie said, slowly.

"Don't worry, baby……. I wouldn't push as hard as this if you weren't so willing….."

His face dropped…… "You don't think I'm being too much of an easy lay in this, do you? Well, I mean, I don't drop my knickers for any girl with a cock between her legs!" And he looked up again, smiling. "I just feel so sexy when you've put these things on me and you've made me capable of doing make-up that transforms me so…. and your piece de resistance is the hair……

I just love the way it feels to the touch…. OK, it's not long enough yet, but I think you've done wonders with what's there………"

YET??!! yes, I heard him right. I think he was hatching plans of his own.

"When you say 'yet', what d'you have in mind, honey?" I probed him…… was it a throw-away line, or did he mean something deeper?

"Did I say 'yet'? … ", he sat back….. "…then I must have meant 'yet'. How long could I grow it before going out would be a problem — given the people we know?

"People are very relaxed about the way we all look. I'd say that a chin-length page-boy bob cut would be good — that would make a short pony-tail and who doesn't have a pony-tail sometime in their lives!? Longer than that….. makes a longer ponytail. I think it should be cut perfectly for a girl's style and whatever pony-tail you have, ….you have!" My thoughts began to run away with what I was saying…. I forgot myself a bit…… Don't go tooo far…. Don't rush him!

He went on with his own train of thought….. "You see, I like it dressed as I am round here. And I've no worries about wearing make-up on working days when you're out and about so I look and feel attractive when you get home…… It's the weekends that I'm less able to be confident about. What if people call in unexpectedly?"

"Annie has to hide." I put it bluntly.

"Exactly,…." , he conjured up a picture in his own mind…… "Frightening!"

"Not at all, unless you want to go much further with this…..?" I had to test him out.

"No, that's exactly the point. The thought frightens the living daylights out of me — being discovered by anyone else but you." He admitted.

"Tell me more about why this is different, honey." I coaxed him to open up some more.

"Well, it's hard to describe…." I remember this bit very well as I'm writing……. "There's a big part of me wanting to do this, more and more in fact, and there's a little part of me that says it's wrong ……. No, be honest with myself, there's a quite a big part of me says it's wrong. The worry is that I really hope you don't feel this is stealing anything from you — your "self"; the girl in our marriage…….. I mean, there's only room for one woman……. what did Diana say? 'There were three in this marriage and it got crowded', or something…… I really don't want to crowd you in any way………… I'm not stealing your identity… lovely though it is and if I were a girl I'd want to be like you more than anybody else……."

Crumbs! Complicated stuff……… I had to reflect on what he'd said….. Maybe it was true. What was I doing? Giving some part of myself away???? In giving him this wonderful hairstyle and make-up, was I forcing myself to go "andro"? In giving him that make-up, should I stop wearing cosmetics too? No fear — I wouldn't do that… I love prettying myself up. In letting him "inside my knickers" — quite literally — was I giving him the girl's role?

"Absolutely not! ", I uttered, half answering these questions in my own head, and partly saying that he was to be himself — as a girl or a boy…..

Plenty to think about as we drifted off to sleep at last; me in my nightie, him still in his camisole bra, panties, stockings and suspenders. We should have taken off our make-up but neither could be bothered, such was the contentment between us.

************

We're into the days subsequent to my plan's initial phase — my plan to get my husband Andy to enjoy the feminine side of his character, Annie. So much had happened in the first three or four days that I knew then that we had to take a breather and maybe slow down. If the behaviours and enjoyments we had reached were to become a regular part of our lives — as I hoped they would — then a "slow, slow" before another "quick, quick, slow" phase was in order. So, I had to create the right atmosphere. It began the next morning…….

***********

The rest of the first week

We awoke the following day with my husband still dressed in his/my undies and with his make-up and hair still — as far as possible after a night's sleep — still girly. We both awoke together but I had already planned how this morning would be….. He needed to be a boy again, just for a while.

"Up you get — you can shower first…." I began. "A fresh start, Andy my lover. Shampoo that hair, cleanse you face and get yourself dressed, big boy style please."

"OK, hon, you're right. That would be good."

No make-up, no hair styled, no knickers — let him feel good about himself as a guy today….. Let's do usual things, I'd tell him. We would save any 'playtime' until later - or maybe even tomorrow. I'd judge things as we went along. I kept with me the image of him as he removed his female underwear and went into the bathroom to shower. As I looked at his disappearing torso, his hair 'big' from last night, it was a girl as much as a guy going in there. It would be the guy in him coming out again in a few minutes.

I'd spend the day in gorgeous femininity at work and then return refreshed.

He needed to be organized again though. He had work to do at his home-office desk, I knew that. However, I needed to keep him in touch with his 'herself'……. He didn't know yet, but….. I'd send him on a (first) shopping trip on his own……. As a guy, I'd planned to send him to the local department store to buy a lipstick. And then to the local M&S store to buy some underwear…..

Just one lipstick. (He would be sent back to buy other things there in the coming days but wasn't to know that today. He was to get to know the cosmetics counters well over a few days…… and the girls there would get to know him.)

He'd grow to like that, I was sure. I would insist that he told me all about each trip when I got home each evening. In minute detail…. Who said what; how he felt; how he made his choices.

It would be less likely for him to get known at the M&S underwear department — they change staff too often and the service isn’t nearly as ‘personal’.

"Hurry up, darling." I called — I had to shower and get ready for work. It was a busy day at the salon that I couldn't be late for. Miss your first appointment and they all get behind from the start. There was a regular client in first thing who had a complicated colour job to be done as well as a cut — big business for the salon and, in any case, a woman whose hair I enjoyed working with.

"Be done in a minute!" came his reply. And soon enough, there he was, wrapped in a towel, his hair all wild and natural, his face devoid of make-up. The only give-away to our days of role-play was the nail polish on his fingers and toes. "You can't even get away with that……." I said, pointing to the offending items. "Remover pads at the ready!".

He was done with that by the time I returned from the shower, I too now wrapped in a towel with my hair all wild and no make-up…… The only difference between appeared between the folds of his towel! Yum, yum! I thought………….. And I knelt down in front of him!

***********

And then I was late for work!!!!

***********

"Sometime today, Andy...... anytime you feel like a walk to the shopping centre, I want you to go shopping. We have to get you some things for yourself and there's no reason not to start today. We'll do it slowly, one or two articles at a time……. “

He was to be dressed as a guy for this….. No question. How much he disclosed of his “interest” in these things was up to him!

“First, I want you to visit the department store where they have a wonderful array and choice of cosmetics. I want to find you home tonight with your very own lipstick — that you’ve chosen for yourself. You must go in and take your time….. I suggest the Christian Dior counter — they have the best choice and also the sexiest counter staff. You’re to pick up one lipstick tester and rub it across the back of your hand — to assess the colour. Then another, and maybe another. By then, you’ll have attracted the attention of the saleswoman. She’s offer assistance and …. Well, you can play it as it comes from there. You have to find a reason why you want a lipstick — any lipstick — and then you have to have her help you make a choice! Simple!!!”

“just one? “ he asked. “One is enough for you, my girl…..!” I retorted. “…. Because you have another purchase to make.” Andy’s eyes narrowed…..

“So, today, you're also to go to M&S. Easy to find, you've been there lots of times. But you've not been to Women's Lingerie. At least not with me, you haven’t! So go there and find it — it's on the first floor, hidden away a little, so it's very discrete."

"What am I looking for?", he asked quietly, his face betraying his thoughts. "What's she expecting me to do…. try things on???!" Now, whether he wanted to or not, that was a bridge too far, for now!

"You're looking for knickers, plain and simple… or rather not… rather more as pretty as you can possibly imagine…. I'm talking lace… lots of lace…… and maybe ribbons and bows. You'll find lots on different cuts and styles. There'll be high leg ones, French-style ones, and bikini ones, and ……thongs … but don't even go there! You have to choose one pair….. no more… just one….. that you fancy. You might like to check out if they have matching bras… but don't buy one of those today....... just check they've got them to match… because I've got an idea that you'll need one someday quite soon!"

"I like the sound of doing this… I really do…… but won't the salespeople think I'm odd…..?

"Well, I guess they won't because Annie, you are!!" I replied, teasing him mercilessly. "No, no, they get guys in there buying knickers every day, I'm sure. And it's not as though you need to ask for help. You just need to know your size…. Your size as a woman."

"Well, what size am I???" he said searchingly.

"I doubt you'll want to ask them, eh?" I teased again. "You'll be an English size 16 or 18… and I've no idea of what that is in European measurements."

"And you're a 14, are you?" he asked, almost too casually……..

"Yes, but why do you ask?" I said, feigning surprise but knowing it meant he was trying to judge his size — in my knickers — against his own.

"Oh, nothing, no reason…." he said, unconvincingly. I let it rest. He would have to work it out for himself and if that meant trying my undies on again, well, so be it.

"Is that all? All I'm supposed to buy?" he asked as if disappointed.

"Yes, for today, that's all you get!" I flirted with him and left the house for the day.

On the drive to work, I reflected on how fast to push the process. The next few days should be gentle….. little steps at a time…. no great surprises. No causes for alarm. No shocks to the system but gentle securing of the steps we'd already taken, "him/her" and me. That's why he was to buy only one pair of knickers on this first visit to M&S.

As soon as I arrived at the salon, I was immersed in the needs of that first quite demanding but interesting client's hair. Mid-50s lady, tall and elegant, carried herself well. Always well dressed — spent a fortune on her clothes. Always immaculately made-up. Perfect nails, Probably very good at sex. Crowned her image with a sandy, beige blonde bob.

I mused over something Annie had said a day or two ago, while I was applying the client's colour…… "Could we do something with the colour (of his own hair)?" he'd asked…….. and I'd suggested something not very permanent — maybe some jazzy temporary rinse…. hhmmmm.. I thought about that……. Maybe next week? Maybe. Hair's his fetish, after all. Maybe the same for both of us?

The day was enjoyable — lots of variety, lots of different clients, all wanting something different. Some new clients, again wanting new treatments. That's what I love about my job…… and what I'm beginning to like in my hubby!

Mid-afternoon gave a break in my appointments book. I thought I'd give him a call. Maybe tease him some more — in a nice way. The phone rang and rang at home. No reply. Good! That meant he was out and maybe I'd find him in M&S searching for a pair of sexy knickers. Maybe he would even be checking his preferred purchase against the bra selection… there had to be a match!

"Hi, I can't get to the phone so please leave a message." said his voice-mail. What to say? Pausing for a second, I teased him anyway: "I doooo hope you've found what you're looking for honey, and I dooooo look forward to seeing you wearing them tonight!. Love you!" That would make him smile, I hoped. My pussy was wet just at the thought of my home-coming, remembering the way I'd left him this morning, towel hanging open, cock smothered in lipstick after the blow-job I'd just given him. Ok, so his cock hadn't been huge but I'd milked him just the same. The taste of his cum came flooding back. Yummmmm!

My last client was, I knew, one of the few outright lesbians who came to the salon. She was a beauty and revelled in the way she looked. She flirted with all the stylists, me included, and today was no different.

"Not changed your mind over my offer last time I was here Zoe?? It's still open. Your place or mine…. You can do what you like with me so long as I get to do the same to you." she said, lowering her voice to an almost discreet level.... "You can read me poetry before we fuck eachother if you like." And she meant it! (She knew my love of poetry…….)

She went on… "You can choose the colour for my hair this time, darling — make me red if you feel submissive, make me blonde if you fancy being on top, and make me black — blue black — if you want me in the dark."

It was unreal. She'd asked once before. Hairdressers do have the oddest conversations on the quiet with their clients — and I've had a few — but she was a first!

For once I was tempted……………. (and she went home blue-black!) The rest of the day passed uneventfully…..

I, too, stopped off at M& on the way home, wondering who would have served Annie earlier in the day. I fancied a new body-shaper and so I went in to get one.

Home-coming was a more low-key affair than the day before — it could hardly be otherwise. Andy greeted me at the door and hugged me round the waist as my hands reached for his neck - very much a boy — girl clinch. I was delighted to taste lipstick on his lips — he'd obviously found a "birthday suit" coloured stick in my selection on the dressing table. Tasty! Otherwise, he was all boy tonight…. except, of course for the hidden delight he'd have bought, as I instructed.

We kissed for a long time, our tongues exploring. I licked all around the outline of his upper and lower lips, tracing the cupid's bow shape he'd fashioned above and the full sumptuous curve below. No husband I knew would greet his wife this way….. the little counted for a lot. He'd been thinking 'sex' almost all the day I reckoned.

"You look wonderful…." he began, "… I've soooo been looking forward to you coming home and I've had a great day…. I've got lots of work done and that gave me time to go to M&S like you said I should……. Oh, boy, that was an experience……. It wouldn't be for you maybe but, well, there was no need to go to the men's department. It's a boring in there….. I headed straight for the women's area like you said…. the lingerie was over at the back. I had to walk through some delightful clothes to get there — some you'd look really good in. I kinda got 'shopping' in my system if you know what I mean………"

"You look wonderful too, Annie, my honey…… Why don't you put on some more lipstick — 'cos it's all gone — and let's talk more about eachother's day….. I can't wait!"

I wanted to savour these moments. He was quite so excited it was amazing. Enjoy shopping??? A guy?! This was a FIRST!

He made tea as I sat in the lounge, busily attending to things in the kitchen.

"Did you wear lipstick all day?" I asked, half expecting that he had — but hoping that it had just been for my home-coming. "No, darling, you didn't suggest it, so I resisted the temptation."

There! Sharing… Just for the home-coming… that was what I wanted!

"You beauty!" I exclaimed. "….Quick, do as I say — loads more!!!! … Oh, and I'd prefer you with colour this time!"

"Annie" reached into her pocket and produced one of my slim Christian Dior lipsticks and went to the little mirror by the door. His manner showed me that he had been practising with this moment in mind. He made the shape of his lips exquisite. I was beginning to like this!

“I didn’t tell her why I wanted the lipstick, but I did nejoy the coosing! There are sooo many to choose from!” he eulogized.

"Mmmwwahhhh!!" he mouthed, as he blew me a kiss, theatrically.

Tea first, then talk……. I wanted to know all about his day. "Tell me how it felt going in to the M&S store, knowing what you were there for… let's begin there." I asked.

He was off! On a diary……. "Oh, no, it began before that — when I left here, I had a really warm feeling inside… as if everyone who I passed knew where I was going. One or two smiled "hello" and I took that to mean 'we know where you're going!' Bet they didn't though! But then again, I'm sure my heart beat faster because of it. M&S has lots to offer — why can't men get the same amount of choice in the clothes they wear… Anyway, you were right. I found the things I was looking for under the eagle eye of a Sales Supervisor who seemed to notice me as soon as I got in there…… She didn't say anything for a while, as I was looking….."

He went on, hardly pausing for breath. "…….The important thing you said was to look for a matching set of bra and knickers - well, there were some where they were together….. with suspenders too…… and some where you had to look in separate aisles. I think she thought I'd been there long enough when she came over and asked if she could 'help with anything'."

He was clearly excited just telling me about something so everyday and ordinary….. Excited!

"I said no thanks…. well, I could hardly ask her to measure me as a 16 or an 18 could I? Anyway, I'd already decided I was a 16 and to risk them being a bit tight. So it was obviously time to make the choice………. And so I got these…", he said as he unzipped his chinos and allowed them to fall. Stepping out of them, he said…. " D'ya like them, Zoe, honey?"

I loved them… and told him so! I pulled him down on to the sofa and kissed him again.

"You're such a cutie! They're just right……… You're going to enjoy things to go with them. We'll get you a shopping list — today was just a taster. The next thing I want you to do, tomorrow, is to go back and find that same woman and ask her for help… in choosing the bra to go with these lovely knickers……. and to choose another set…. another bra and some more panties. There's no doubt she'll be pleased to help you."

Reassuringly, I was telling him it was OK to go out on his own and buy feminine things.

"But what size bra should I buy? I've no idea…….. I know what size you wear but… but your tits are much bigger than mine! I'm not growing tits…….."

The spectre of changing his body shape clearly was a sudden revelation and it bothered him…. More reassurance needed.

"No, honey, no, no , no…… Well, we can measure you here and that will be fine…… and no, you're not growing tits. (yet? I wondered.) I can tell you exactly the size you need…… but then, there is a belief that 70% of all women are wearing the wrong bra size, or 'cup' size….. and you should really start off in the right size. (Wait for it, I thought, deep breath…..) The best thing would be to ask the woman you met to measure you. I'd guess a 38A."

(There, I'd said it… risking him 'sharing' the experience with another woman…. but the enhancement of the fantasy carried me away, I well remember).

Annie's face flushed red and I went on….

"You can choose a really quiet time in the store… like very first thing in the morning…. and you can invent a reason…….. the classic one being 'a dare or a bet that you've lost' or a fancy dress party that you're going to……. She'd understand……."

She'll understand all right……. She'll understand that you're very nervous about cross-dressing but she won't be shocked, I thought to myself. You won't be the first and you won't be the last that she's seen.

"….. and while you're there, have a look at the corsetry racks…. you'll find things called 'body shapers' that a nice tight lycra body wear — cover you from tits to pussy. Just look!"

His face was a study……. Was I really telling him to do this? Should he really approach a total stranger and ask her to measure him up…. for a bra!? He was torn between wild excitement and total embarrassment……. between 'should I?' and 'shouldn't I'? He remained speechless for some time…. I remember it as well as if it were yesterday.

(He subsequently confessed that he'd thought about asking the woman for 'help' himself when he left her the first time….. It was a temptation. He hadn't thought about how to explain or excuse the need to be measured for a bra… he would just have, well, said that's what he needed. He knew she would have guessed what was behind it. She had been so friendly, he didn't really care. His dilemma over my suggestion was whether he should admit to me how much it excited him!)

I had planned to suggest that he go further in his shopping trip tomorrow — and visit the department store's cosmetics counters — but I thought again, enough was enough on that day. How wonderful that he would be going back to buy much more intimate female clothes tomorrow. Our secret — to share with eachother.

For the rest of today, though, he would be all boy. I wanted fucking tonight and I meant for him to know it….. whether it was him, or the fucker we share, or both…. I was hot for it. I resisted the urge to take him there and then. A Martini seemed like a good suggestion!

**************

The morning after was like the others recently, except that he wore no undies, no make-up and his hair was boy-style today. Nevertheless, we were both feeling very sexy and a follow-up to "last night" was very much on both our minds — gently, lazy, hazy fondling and petting eachother. His tongue was in good form that morning. I was able to cum, and cum again, as the waves of pleasure flowed over me. Annie knew how to please a girl! We finished with me giving a good old fashioned blow job to "my man".

My man who was going shopping again today.

**************

After the goldrush!

"You were right. Bra size 38A cup — was what she told me I needed." He began his description of his day the following afternoon. We settled down to exchange our news, like before, but my day at the salon hadn't been notable in any way. My mind had been 'elsewhere' of course.

"She came over to me after I'd been there a little while, examining the bras this time. "Forgotten something?", she asked me……. as if she knew the answer….. I was prepared for that or some-thing like that… ", he claimed! "….. and so I said she was right, I needed a bra to go with the knickers I'd bought yesterday. I'd planned to say they were a present for my wife and I forgot the top half!…. And that I wanted another set. …but half-way through I thought why lie? Because she'd be shocked? I don't think so! She didn't strike me as the type who'd be shocked by anything …… so I just said "yes, a bra to go with the knickers — these ones — and maybe another set, too."

So, he'd done it… no excuse or explanation………

"So, what did she say to that?" I asked. It could have gone two ways… she might have said "fine, here you are… " and left him alone, ……..or she might have said "fine, do you need help?" A lot rested on this, or rather which, question.

She did the latter…... asked him if he needed help. Now that could have been in the choice of style, or it could have been in the sizing.

She chose the latter.

He continued…. "she asked me…… "What size do you, er.. she paused, …..does the lady need?"

WOW — make your mind up time! We both thought.. "This was IT!"

……. and he went on obliviously…….

"…..So I said, well, my wife says a 38A but that this should be checked……. and d'you know what? … the crafty cow made me come clean….. she said 'Well, where is your wife?", probably thinking that you didn't even exist and I'd made up being married ….. So I bare-faced it…. I said "Oh, it's not for her, it's for me."

Brilliant. He'd 'come out' to a complete stranger. It was all part of his admission to himself that he was, indeed, is, a cross-dresser and, now, doesn't mind people knowing. He later admitted to me that this was one of so many critical moments but one he looks back on with special pride.

"Well done, I'm proud of you. You must tell me a bit about her and how she handled the revelation, …well done….!" I hugged him and let my hand stray towards the satin of the knickers that were now within my reach.

"It was so scary…… before I knew it, she was saying "Come this way" and marching off to the fitting room,, smiling at me over her shoulder. There was no other customer near us so I felt kinda safe not being threatened…… if she'd had other customers, I guess this would never have happened. And d'you know, she treated me just as if it was you standing there… but all the time I felt that she was really understanding… you know, wanting to make it easy for me… in fact, to help live out my fantasy — which she clearly knew we had entered……

"Slip off your top…" she told me, "..is this your first fitting?" she went on……. And so it was. She put her measuring tape around my chest, both below where my tits would be and right across the nipples and then she measured something across my back, letting me face the mirror and see her attending to me…. You know, I think I was falling in love! She was soooo kind. She told me to slip my top back on and then said I should look for 38A bras….. and probably an 18 in panties next time. I just wanted to hug her!"

"Good job you didn't!" I exclaimed…… ".. but you've found someone you can go back to, which is nice. I doubt she'll forget you. What was she like? — I want to know so I recognize her when I'm in there next time."

He thought for a moment and said "Well, she's blonde — that lovely beige colour with some light and some darker part, all quite highly styled with curls you can see are separated. She's tall, about 5ft 9 or 10, and well, ...shall I say, she'd more a size 20 than a 12! Aged about 45, nice legs……

"Enough!……" I said. He really had fallen in love! "Well, she's done you proud. So off you went to select your purchases?"

"Indeed, she didn't follow but she did say "see you soon, I hope". So, I hope so too!" "Love!"

I thought that his day as a boy had been the right thing to do and I was right. He had woken as a guy, and we had screwed as boy and girl. He had gone out as a guy and he had bought female underwear as a guy. Excellent. He remained in 'boy' persona.

"So, you now have two bras and two pairs of matching knickers?" I asked. "Indeed, I do.", was his reply. "I'll show you them later."

My decision to leave it at that tonight was also right. I had quite intentionally slipped a phial or two of temporary hair colour into my bag as I left the salon. I thought that it might be nice to play with his suggestion that we "do something about the colour" of his hair. But he'd indulged my fantasy in spades today — better than I could have hoped or planned for. This was working! Not too fast, again I told myself.

We spent the evening relaxing and, for the first time in a while, not gagging for sex. There was all the time in the world for that! Boy and girl…… albeit boy-in-knickers. Bedtime was wonderful. A pantomime almost. He made a show of opening his parcels and putting on his new purchases. Beautifully done. He was really enjoying himself and I loved watching….. I kinda appreciated, for the very first time, how guys get a kick out of striptease….. That was what it was…. unstrip ------- tease!

Needless to say, the teasing worked well, for both of us!

And then. again, we slept.

****************

I had more in store for his next excursion but decided that today would be a rest day……. He could dress if he wished but nothing new to push the boundaries. That could wait until tomorrow.

My plan didn't require a total transformation at all, nor an immediate one. I wanted to make us enjoy subtle (subtle!!??) changes on a gradual basis……… What had happened so far was more than expected…… Maybe I myself was getting a little concerned……… Now, he seemed to be" in the driving seat"… but then again, no he wasn't —

He had bought himself a lipstick — a first one at least. He would buy more! I had put him through the trips to M&S. I had determined that it was knickers only first time and bras and knickers next. It was me that suggested the "help" he should ask for.

No, I was in control. This is Zoe's party.....

As we sat over breakfast coffees, I casually said "Be a boy again today?" and his response was immediate: "Oh, I think so… a girl can have too much of a good thing!" He had work to do that would take him out, he explained, and he wouldn't be back until after my usual arrival time.

"Well, you could always wear those lovely undies, darling Annie." I suggested.

"Mmmmmm, I was hoping you'd say that, Zoe. That'll be enough just for today though." He replied with a smile and a suggestive look that meant tomorrow would be different.

My husband Andy's falling into the role he was beginning to play; the coquettish girl/boy; when the opportunity arose, was encouraging.

He was clearly loving the way we sparred with eachother in little moments like these. Maybe tomorrow would be a good time to move things along. He knew nothing of my next suggestion.

I have asked Andy to remember the time, in that first week or so, and what his feelings were. He's offered the following comments to clarify just how willing he was at this stage to go on with the process of building his female alter ego…… Here is what he's written.....

**********

Andy/Annie writes………

I understand what Zoe is doing here...... She has asked for my take on what was happening that first week...... It's too long ago to remember in detail — at least three years now — but that was a time when I was going through a lot of changes and some of them were welcome, some were not.

When my wife took the first steps, suggesting such mild fantasy play, I was really ready for a little escapism. It probably helped that my college days had brought me quite a lot of experience in girls' clothes and hair & beauty. Those had been totally absorbing for several weeks and, while I was still living at home, something to keep secret from parents and share with friends. The girlfriends I shared the hairdressing competition with were stunning — they were all very focussed, as I was, on helping a friend to get practice in her job and, later, to help her win a novices' competition. That I'd spent hours as a girl at the time, and really loved the way I was treated as one of the group, meant that now, in my twenties, my wife's suggestions found me very susceptible to CD playing!

I was ready for it — though up to that time I'd never have suggested anything to my wife like dressing in her clothes, or using her make-up, or having her style my hair. She started it — and to this day, I'm still thankful she did. She's the love of my life and, now I can respond to her in two ways, she can feel able to play two roles herself. I love her when she cross-dresses... in some of my guy gear..... But "Andro-her" comes out much less often than my Annie, i.e. me, but she/he's very welcome when she/he does.

We have found a wonderful way to indulge both our fantasies. It's not been without its set-backs and losses of confidence (mainly on my part) but it means I'm able to be a girl some days as well as living as a guy. There is a heaven… really!

Zoe returns……

There, you have a little interlude between my writings that may give a picture of where we are today. Now, back to how we got here……

So, he went off to his business meeting that day, dressed in his undies but, to the world, a guy in a business suit. The bra and panties were his secret. A secret that only I shared. Heaven. His outer wear is conventional, his hair long but natural.

This was a Friday — the end of the week. Playtime could follow; uninterrupted for three nights and two days. How would I make the most of that? I spent most of Friday planning the details. I knew overall that I wanted us to have sex as often as we could, in as many guises as we could.

He would be she. He would be he. I would be she. I would be he.

He would be Annie. He could be Andy. I would be Zoe, but I could be a "he", couldn't I?!

He would be going tomorrow to the department store to get some lipstick. Maybe Sunday, he would be going again, this time to buy some more cosmetics. I had the hair colour from the salon. Maybe tonight we could play with that. He had asked, after all! I said "jazzy" and I meant it — this was a purple/burgundy shade. Maybe I could take home some paint-on silver for a 'flash' to go with it, around his temples…… where I would set his kiss-curls …….. Lovely ideas!

As I stood with my clients, my thoughts made me wet around the pussy. How delightful! What was he thinking, I wondered.

Friday night home-coming was strange for me… He wasn't there. I hadn't heard from him during the day either. I was longing to see him — and begin to make him "her" again. There were plans to put into place……

Having made sure there were Martinis in the fridge, I went to the bedroom. His fresh underwear came to hand and I laid it on the bed, together with my peach satin dressing gown. I would give him that to have for himself from tonight onwards. He could even come with me to buy a replacement at the same department store. Maybe I'd watch him from a distance as he went to the cosmetics counter and asked for more help. I laid "our" cosmetics on the dressing table.

I found the fucker that we both loved so much…. the dildo that would fill me up later. Hell, why not have a little pleasure first, before he returns?! So, ………I did.

There, alone on the bed, I writhed and wriggled with delight as the fucker went in and out. I took it out and sucked it well. Joy!

Nothing yet done with my own appearance, I was surprised when I heard his car arrive on the drive. Got to get ready! I ran to the bathroom and into the shower.

There was something natural about the way my hair stayed as it was at the end of the shower — slicked against my head as before. I carefully applied styling mousse to make it stay like that.

"Had a good day??? I'm just in the shower." I called when he came in downstairs.

"Brilliant! Fancy a Martini?!", he replied.

What to wear? He was still in his business suit……I went into my little dressing room.

"Come and get changed first!" I implored him — I wanted him out of the man's things… now!

"OK, it's been a hot one, so I need a change.", he agreed. He'd find the clothes on the bed!

He climbed the stairs and came into the bedroom…. "Wow! No secret what you have in mind!", he exclaimed, with a sudden excitement in his voice.

"Exactly! You have three minutes to shower and change." I teased. Enough time for me to choose what I should wear tonight. If he was to be in a dressing gown and underwear all evening, should I be in male drag to reflect his looks? Why not — there's a first time for everything, I thought.

A wave of nerves came over me, standing in our dressing room…………. — was this another step — and one too far? I stood before his open wardrobe... What clothes should I choose? His clothes...... Uncertainty swept over me for a milli-second as I looked in the mirror. It would be right with ultra-glam make-up…….. surely. A wolf — or a vixen - in sheep's clothing?

He was finishing his shower as I fastened the hipster jeans and the CK shirt. It was tight across my bra-less tits but that would only serve to confound the image. My nipples stood proud.

I slipped on a pair of his, very male, shoes. (Pity he wasn't my size in shoes, I thought…. we'll have to take care of that soon).

His footsteps from the bath we quiet and I turned to see him, wrapped in the bath sheet, standing at the doorway of the dressing room. His hair was wet and wild.

"Well, helloooooo………", he whistled quietly.

He saw a woman --------- alllll woman -------- wearing his clothes with her perfect make-up and sleek hair, beckoning him to come for a kiss.

My lipstick was messed in a minute… but it was then all over him…. 'him' as he soon wouldn't be. He would be Annie..... and I might just fuck her tonight!

"You look stunning.! Zoe, have I ever told you I love you?!", he said appreciatively.

"So do you, honey, even before I've got my hands on you! Oh, and yes, you have!", I replied.

Ohhh, did I have plans!

"Keep the towel on, leave the undies for now, and bring this to bed….", I said, handing him the fucker that I had played with before his arrival.

"With pleasure.", he beamed in agreement.

No knickers, no bra, no make-up, no hairstyling…. just him as he was made…….. What better way to start an evening of making love?

*************

Later, after two more Martinis, I suggested that he got dressed — which he did — before I made the most of his hair and matched his make-up to my own.... glamourous!. He was more than willing.

He wasn't prepared for the revelation that came next. Sitting him at the mirror in the bathroom,

I said: "Colour by Schwarzkopf………. you asked if we could…. I say we can!", holding the phial of colour up for his inspection.

"It's the colour of your favourite wine — shiraz, my darling … a deep burgundy purple…… You'll look absolutely stunning! It'll condition your hair as well, making it easier to set on the rollers. Don't fret — it doesn't last….. well, not very long……. Well, three washes perhaps……. you can handle that, can't you? It's a very fashionable colour…… lots of girls are asking for this at the salon……."

Silence.

"I chose this one because I think it'll suit you really perfectly…… You can choose other colours another time if you like…. I can bring the colour chart and swatches home with me if you like…. Or you can look at them when you next come to pick me up at the salon. In fact, I could do it for you one night at the salon. That could be fun. A real girly experience — for both of us!"

Silence. A stunned look. Was I serious? Well, I was, but his look made me wonder……..

"Oh, yes please, Zoe darling……… You know that hair is my "thing" and I can't wait to have you play with mine…….. I'd love to come to the salon - I'd love to become a regular client — and have you work your magic. By all means, let's try this colour. It sounds wonderful, but please can I come to the salon before long……….. Nobody there knows me so I could be a complete stranger for you to take on. You just tell me when my hair's long enough for you to do your best work on."

His words flowed like a river — impossible to stop.

So, I took the step of adding a little more moisture to his hair — it was partly dry. I stood behind him, both of us looking in the mirror as I parted his hair left and right, combing the colour through thoroughly over four or five minutes. By then end of this time, it was ready for rinsing — too long and the colour would become excessive.

I sent him to the bathroom to rinse the colour away and, as I stood there in his tight shirt, jeans and shoes, I thought "not a bad looking guy, I'd like him to fuck me sometime." Narcissism, eh?

I arranged the rollers and pins across the dressing table, and set the silver colour that would adorn his kiss-curls as the final surprise.

He returned, asking only "Are your tits comfortable in there….. Can I play with them later?"

Cheeky!!!

The rollers went into his hair with ease, the conditioner in the colour adding body. The style that came to my mind was a variation of the previous one — with its crown moved much further forward. There would be a fringe and a whole body of hair going back from his face. The silver would be painted on to the fringe and the kiss curls at the sides. I would back-comb the top to form a small bouffant and make as much as I could of the hair to the nape of his neck. That was where we have to grow its length.

Beautiful! I dried it with a hand-dryer, to make it much quicker. He appeared to think it was all over when I combed-through the rolls of hair once they were freed from the tightness of the rollers.

I was conscious that his breathing was quite shallow. The towel hid whatever he was feeling between his legs.

"Bouffant. Beautiful……" I whispered, and went on….. "But not enough….. I have extra colour for your lovely kiss-curls…….Silver streaks!"

His breathing quickened and he closed his eyes. I had lost him. He was about to cum. I had to be quick so threw myself around his chair and into his lap. Too late, he had cum, uncontrollably. Just from the thought and the talk about what I was doing. Wow! He was loving this. My own pussy was wetter than ever now and I couldn't resist the touch….. the featherlight touch….. so I loosened the jeans and let them fall. My hand slid inside and I too had a wonderful orgasm….. Right there and then, as we shared the experience.

Stay with me, dear Reader, for the rest of Friday night and recollections of his visits to the cosmetics counter that weekend.

Back on the roller-coaster too!…………………………….

A Wife's Indulgence
by Zoe
from a friend of WannabeGinger

chapter 8

My tale continues into the second weekend of my husband's growing delight in the freedom to dress in my, and now a few of his own, feminine clothes. I am beginning to work wonders with his hair — which he loves- and I'm about, tomorrow, to send him to select his own cosmetics from the local department store. Before that, we have Friday night! (Chapter 7 started the evening's joy!).

We resume, at home, early evening at the end of the week. A whole weekend of delights in prospect. To tell the truth, I can recall feeling totally shagged out after a day on my feet at the salon and then a wild affair over Andy's hair when he arrived home, culminating in wonderful wanking that we both indulged……

He proved that it's possible for a guy to be talked into orgasm with just his hair being talked about. I proved that missing his cum was no disincentive and that featherlight fondling of my own fanny, standing there with him, was enough. I was drained! Delightfully!

We looked forward to the weekend; a time in which he would go back to the department store and buy some more cosmetics - to try to find the woman he had been seen by before. I would then meet him for coffee in the high Street - outside the shopping precinct - and we would explore some of the smaller fashion houses where more personal service is guaranteed.

But back to the moment in hand! I had yet to apply the silver highlights to the hair that framed his face and began by restoring the back-combing of the bouffant crown I had created in his beautiful wine-coloured curls. I felt that they belonged to me now. They were mine — for me to do whatever I wanted with the. I would appear to give him a choice but, in reality, whatever his hair would be like in the future would be my design!

As I back-combed, his eyes closed.

He had asked if he could come to my salon… soon…. and he later told me that was what he was imagining there and then. Calling the salon, using a name
I wouldn't recognize, making an appointment with "Zoe" - asking for me by name - as his stylist/colourist, and turning up with me expecting someone completely different, and putting himself in my hands to do my dream creation.

He did do so, but then that's a story for another time.

I left him to his thoughts as my hands worked through his hair, sectioning off the individual curls and giving them as strong a back-combing as I felt they could take. tonight wasn't a time for half-measures. I do dooooo bouffant when I try!!!

The silver highlights were there to complete his/her look for the evening if not the whole weekend. The shiraz colour would last through three washes but the silver would be gone in the first. High-lighting meant getting 'up close and personal' in front of him — obscuring the view he had of the mirror.

He was very vulnerable, I thought, sitting there facing me with his eyes closed, trusting me to do this… to make him girly again…… It made me love him more. That trust I couldn't betray by pushing him too far. We had to work on what he would find acceptable, and what he would not. That was for the next time we 'talked'. Not for tonight. Tonight was for crossing his dress and fixing his beauty… and sex, lots, lots more of that.

He had become she... again. Annie sat before me.... and I loved her even more!

So, when I had started, all Andy had seen was his bouffant crown, in glorious dark red….. When I had finished, and after painstakingly stroking the colour wand over strands of her hair, finally, I let Annie twirl the seat. She saw for herself. She looked in the mirror….. and was breath-taken! I had to admit it was one of the most creative results of my hairdressing career — and one that promised greater enjoyment in the future. He/she looked wonderful. I just had to kiss Annie deeply and lastingly. Tonight was going to be very special indeed.

"Darling, Zoe, you're marvellous." Annie purred. "I couldn't have hoped to look this good. I just adore the colour and the style is shaping up so well. I just can't wait for my hair to grow some more! Can you show me some style books to see how you want it to be when it's longer? I can't wait… It's just the most important element in the image I have of me as a girl……"

She was running away with herself…… to become herself!, I was obvious. The hair was the key.

"Whatever you wish, Annie, my love….." I interrupted him, mid-flow, "…but remember we have to go gently, in all of this, we have to take little steps….. this has been a bigger one but there's no half-way house in hair colour — you gets what you buys!" I advised him.

"Half-way, of course…. half-way in the stunning colour… what's that half-way towards then?"

I couldn't answer. In fact, the change I'd made, albeit with a temporary rinse and paint-on masque which wouldn't last, was the most dramatic colour change in Annie that I could have made.

"Not in the shade, my darling… only in how long it would last. This is temporary… it sits on the shaft of your hair and washes away very soon. It can still be there if you want it tomorrow when you go shopping, but it won't last beyond the weekend."

"D'you think I should keep it for going out? I mean, what will people think?" She paused.

"When you're going out to buy lipstick? And maybe other cosmetics too? I don't think there's a worry there, do you?" I taunted him. Andy was still under there... somewhere! "We'll have to go on to the clothing stores as wel, I think... I said, tauntingly.

What he was to do tomorrow was another step - I'd said a small one then but now know it was another massive one……..

The lipstick was close to hand, so I gently tipped his chin upward and applied a light coating of colour. Casually, I said "This satin gown that you're wearing now is yours, it goes so well with the new 'you', I want you to wear it often and to buy things like it. OK?"

He purred in response once again, no words seemed necessary. I thought then, I've got him hooked. I kissed him again and led him down-stairs to where I had prepared a lovers' meal — light and seductive tastes. Sesame prawns with light garlic dip, a half-dozen oysters, some melon with parma ham and a bottle of chilled Garganega di Venezie. Eaten with fingers, sipped with lipsticky lips, just delicious!

Before we reached the kitchen, I prepared him for this and another surprise by saying "Close your eyes, honey, because there are some treats on the table and, by the way, I've invited a friend to join us." He stopped at the door, eyes closed. "Whad'ya mean….????" quite clearly freaked out at the prospect of somebody else joining us with him dressed as he was.

It was a joke…. There was a third place laid for dinner at the table, but the friend I had invited was our dildo, ….our fucker, …..our soul-mate! He didn't know that. Maybe I'd made a mistake. Quickly, I tried to reassure him/her.

"Don't be concerned, my love. I wouldn't embarrass you; you're too precious for that. It's a little bit of fun for us both…. Open your eyes!"

There, before him, was the faithful pleasure-giver we both adored, all eight inches ready to eat!!.

"You wicked woman!", Annie cried. "I was petrified for a moment! Zoe! promise me you won't ever do anything like that again, will you?! My heart must have stopped beating then! I nearly fainted!"

"No promises on that score my love. Who knows, one day you might be relaxed enough not to care who sees and knows you in your alter ego."

(I couldn't imagine that for a minute. I expected that this whole charade would stay between us, as it has done over three whole years. I haven't been concerned at all about that — indeed, it's been beautiful to share it just between the two of us. OK, he's been 'out' at times, but that's been fuel to the flames of his excitement. That's all.)

"I'm not going to be able to do that…. never in a month of Sundays!" He seemed very certain and I couldn't blame him. I felt so outrageous when just in my "andro" guise, I needed the make-up to balance out the impression… to be "She/He" always. I couldn't go further. But just thinking of dressing myself made me wet around the pussy once more. I had caught sight of myself in another mirror on the stairs………

"I want to know that you want me." I said in as suggestive a voice I could muster. "…… Show me how much your taste buds appreciate me…." "Why not… you're the most tasty woman in the world.", he answered.

We ate seductively, each taking a turn to pass something between our lips and finish by licking them, leaving a gloss to shine. Occasionally, I picked up the dildo and passed it to him, saying "Lick me… lick me now!" …..and sure enough, he did.

We talked about the plan I had for tomorrow… his first foray to the cosmetics counter.

"You should be all boy on the outside, OK? What you're wearing underneath is up to you. Your hair can stay as it is, with the highlights, or you can rinse it in the shower in the morning and only the purply red will remain. Your choice. You will go on your own so you don't feel "pressured." (There was no point in telling him I would follow and observe him.)

Annie was taking this all on board, then asked: "You said to take my time, so I will. I may even stop for a coffee before going in for the 'kill'! Just another lipstick, you said. For daytime or for night-time?"

"Oh, night-time, darling. Real vibrant colour — that's what you need to buy. You can wear some of your first purchase, your Rimmel 'Birthday Suit' lipstick, when you leave the house if you like. You'll know it's there but nobody passing you in the street will know. Only the girl at the counter is sure to know. That should be fun — so she knows it's for you whatever you say or excuse you use!"

"Terror!", she laughed. In fact, she wasn't the slightest bit afraid, sitting there at home.

I dimmed the lights where we sat. As the 'meal' wore on, I became increasingly tempted to slip the dildo inside myself and have him/her lick me….. Eventually, the temptation was too great to bear. Quietly, I slipped my chair away from the table and spread my legs. "Eat me! ….. eat me NOW!", I implored her….. and, sure enough, she did!

The evening was taking shape exactly the way I had planned. Further sex, increasingly hedonistic, was sure to follow.

Her lipstick was refreshed before he approached me. "I can just taste you, Zoe, you honey.", she said as if in a dream. His head sank towards my abdomen and on toward my love-nest. The satin folds of his gown laid over my legs, softly caressing the skin. His tongue penetrated the folds of my wonderfully wet labia and found my pussy waiting. Soon I would cum, and cum again… The dildo went in and soon I was in a multiple series of orgasms that I wanted never to end… as this wonderful female man was serving me!!! His hair hid his face as it was buried between my thighs.

I stroked the curls in his dark red hair. Truly, he made a wonderful lesbian lover for me. Soon enough, after it seemed like hours, we laid back for a pause in play.

What could I do in return? Have him fuck me with his own cock….? I found it outside the knickers he was wearing. Fuck me through my own knickers! Yes!, though only semi-aroused, it was warm to my touch. I sensitively stroked the insides of his thighs, took him firmly in hand and guided him towards me.

He couldn't sustain what hardness he had and clearly felt fraught at the prospect of failing me. Crisis! His old lack of confidence crept back. And the more it went on the more it bothered him. He was so worried, he lost it completely. As if I was worried…. we were making wonderful love. What's a bit of penetration, or a lack of it, between friends? "I'm so sorry.", he said as he paused in his sorrow and then, as if undeterred, found the dildo — our fucker — and mounted me with it between his thighs, forcing himself to simulate fucking me. That is how much he cared.

(In his confusion, he thought — as he told me only recently — that was what two girls would end up doing when one needed so badly to be fucked as I clearly had shown I was).

I wanted to make light of the whole thing…. if was, after all, no worry to me.

What to do next?

I let him simulate for a while before thinking…… this game could have two sides………

So, after a while, and after simulating an orgasm myself, I said, quietly: "Two can play at that game!" With which, I took the fucker from him and pushed him over on the bed, face down. He had said I could penetrate him if I wanted……. I just wanted to show him that I could…….

….if I wanted to! But tonight, I didn't want to! So I simulated fucking his arse, pulling him up to take it doggy-style, pushing the fucker in between his buttocks……..

Then, reality clicked-in again…. I had been dreaming… that would have been the last insult to deliver to him in such a situation. I had, indeed, faked an orgasm… He felt a little better and promised "It'll be better tomorrow" as we subsided.

Enough was enough — time to sleep and make well for tomorrow…………. We removed eachother's make-up and freshened our faces. I changed into a truly feminine nightdress and he/she chose to sleep naked. Whether he/she or I went off to sleep first, I can't tell, but I remember dreaming of what I should see in the department store tomorrow and how my "girlfriend/she" would be feeling on arrival home!

*************

More Shopping!

Saturday morning dawned and we were up bright and early. He/she had to be off to the store. Showered and dressed, we had a light breakfast among the detritus of last night's diner sexuelle, and items of clothing strewn about the house.

Not knowing what he/she was wearing under his very conventional weekend chinos and tee-shirt,

a new way to ask what was under there was needed.

"Feeling light and soft inside? Under that rough exterior?" I tried. He knew.

"Oh, yes! Lacy — lovely!"

"Fancy the "Birthday Suit" lipstick?"

"Oh, YYYYes please!"

"Good for you…. come here; let me put it on you." I insisted. I wanted him to have perfectly shaped lips when he approached the cosmetics adviser….. No other make-up though. He was to go out strictly 'low-key'. "Highlights gone, I see." I commented. "I'd like them back."

"The secret with cosmetics buying is to know what you want but to have the adviser help you find it! Good customers get freebies if they're lucky, so keep her talking. Ask what she thinks. You are going there for a lipstick for special nights out. Do you want something sheer red? … or plum and purple? With your hair, plum and purple shades would go best…. ask if she agrees. She'll probably compliment you on your hair shade….. and may even ask if the lipstick's for you. Shock! Horror! Discovery! If she doesn't, well, you can tell her if you want. A bright red could look tarty and any pink shade would clash, so I'd say avoid them. But see if she agrees."

"What if another customer comes by when I'm talking with her?" He asked this, concerned if his private moments would be broken.

"She'll deal with that. She'll ask the other customer to wait for a few minutes but suggest she tries a few things from her big display case. The woman won't pay you any attention — unless you make yourself noticed." I teased him a little more.

"How? What d'ya mean?", he looked concerned.

"Well, if you're trying on the lipstick on your mouth — that'll certainly get you noticed, you girly thing you!". I laughed. "A girl always tries out lipsticks on the back of her hand…. so, you swipe two or three across here….. (showing him).. and she can compare the shades and decide which would look best on her lips. You can do tat, can't you?"

"Well, that way I won't be as noticeable, will I?"

"Exactly. Now, if you're lucky, and the store isn't busy first thing after opening, she might just put some on you…. like in having a make-over — you see girls having those all the time, don't you? …. Do you fancy that?!" Again, I was teasing him………… but sowing a seed for him to choose, if he fancied being made-up in the full light of a department store!

"Long way away, I think, honey.", he said. "But not never???" I taunted again.

"Oh, never say never….", and he paused in deep thought for some time….. I said nothing, wondering what he would say next……. He looked out of the window and, as he did so, his hand strayed to the hair around the nape if his neck. he felt for the curls, twisting each one as it came into his fingers. He patted and primped the crown, feeling the way the mousse gave it body. Thinking what thoughts? Not never? No, never say never.

Hmmmmm. That set me thinking too. Just look at how far we.. or rather he/she, had gone in a few days…. Just a week and here he was, ready to go out to buy his own cosmetics, having already gone out to buy underwear. Having made love to me as both man and woman.

"I must be going. Can't keep the shop staff waiting, can I?", he said with a lightness in his voice. It was questionable though to what extent he was gee-ing himself up for the challenge. He told me later he promised himself that he would not go into the store if he paused at any time during his walk to town; if he hesitated, he could change his mind. if he didn't, he couldn't. But if he didn't hesitate, he had to go in and go through with what we had agreed he would.

Kissing this wonderful man for a last time before he left, I said, "Just enjoy the whole experience, lover. And come back and tell me all about it, like before. I want to know every detail. If you like it a lot, having bought just a lipstick, then maybe you can go back later and buy something else — say you forgot it, maybe some foundation or eyeshadow. Now that would get your face known in there, wouldn't it! Go on, now. The store opens in 15 minutes."

"Not the sort of things a shy boy like me does every day.", he said, in equally taunting mode. His step was light as he left the doorstep where we had kissed lightly — lightly enough not to spoil his lips. I watched him walk off towards town, letting him get ahead before setting off myself to observe. This was an experience I wanted to share! OK, if he saw me and I was discovered, I'd 'come clean' and say I couldn't resist seeing him take this step….. apparently all by himself.

His clothing gave no clue as to firstly what he was wearing underneath and second, that he was off to do a most feminine of things……… I adored him even more, just for his doing this willingly.

The walk to town was straightforward from our home, but it had enough turns to make following him an easy thing to do. Would he hesitate? Would I come across him round the next corner, or the next? The answer seemed to be no. He walked really quickly….. So much so that the doors of the store were still closed when he reached them. That didn't count as hesitation…..

He stood there, with a small number of others, waiting for the doors to be opened. He ran his hand through his hair….. absent mindedly really, but it obviously made him aware again of the changes we had made to his appearance last night. He looked anxiously at those around him. They paid him no special attention. Well, lots of guys dye their hair these days. OK, the red was a little dramatic but hell, 'live a little!'. I'd seen that his highlights had been sacrificed, but he was right — we can have them again soon.

The doors of the store began to be opened by a pretty young girl, blonde and rounded, just lovable. His type, for sure. He smiled at her and said something….. he was good with strangers. She answered what must have been a question…. she pointed to a distant point; he must have asked her where the cosmetics department was to be found.

But he knew! We had discussed it. Last night. As I followed him into the shop, I realized what he was doing. He was engaging her in conversation and he was checking himself out to proceed. Did she see his lipstick? If she did, there was no indication. Did she look at his hair…. well, certainly she did. I was close enough to see that she herself had blonde highlights within the base blonde colour of her hair. pretty. If he had turned then, he would have seen me. But I escaped detection.

On he went, towards the cosmetics counters, all brightly-lit in the far distance. Lots of spotlights, many pretty salesgirls, a wonderful aroma of the fragrances and other products they sell, I can almost taste the atmosphere as I write this. He didn't pause anywhere….. He slowed his pace only when he was within twenty yards of the nearest counter. As he did so, I cut out of the main avenue through the store and observed him from aside, pretending to be interested in some costume jewellery there. He was looking at the brand names on offer: Lancome, Clarins, Max Factor, and many others, before narrowing in on the Christian Dior counter on the far side.

"Go for it, girl!" I said under my breath. I willed him to make the approach. As he arrived there, he found no sales assistant to help or bother him. It meant he could browse for a short while. Helpful to be here as soon as the store opened, just as I thought. Very few customers, even fewer sales assistants! But not for long.

He stood in front of the huge Dior cosmetic display. Fascinate by the colours and shapes of the packaging and the range of products there to choose from. He looked around — for the first time a little nervously. Would he 'cut and run'? No question of that…… No hesitation on the way in; he was here to buy!

Maybe a minute or two passed — it seemed like hours! — and then she came over………..

She had been talking with another woman at a neighbouring counter but had evidently left husband to his own interests for a little while. Then, she swooped, but oh, so slowly!

About 36-40 years of age, dressed in an immaculate powder blue/grey suit, and strutting her stuff in 3" heels of black patent leather, she clacked across the stone floor. "Angels at 10 o'clock!" She wore a vivid blue neck-tie that matched the vivid blue of her eyes and her azure eye shadow. From the distance I watched, it was impossible to see the perfection of her complexion — though perfect it no doubt was. Her lips were the most tantalizing dark cherry red and the whole aura was topped off with the most elaborately styled coiffure — yes, it was a "coiffure", no doubt done by her herself — there had been no time to come to a salon like my own.

I admired its creativity. An 'up-do' is too small a word for it. Savagely pinned to her scalp, the length was all available for the dressing on the sides and top. The curls mounted one upon another and vertical kiss curls adorned her cheeks. The colour? Oh, the colour… or should I say colours! She was probably an English mouse brown under it all. But the variations upon it were stunning. She had raw slashes of golden blonde separated by distinct lines of chestnut red and a darker, mahogany. These blended into a superb array of top- and side-curls that made the overall image one of "I am in charge here". And she was.

My view was uninterrupted so I could take all of this in before husband spotted her. She approached him from behind and so he only saw her at the last moment. He was shocked it seemed and, as she went behind her counter, she began to speak. I couldn't hear her words but her body language was perfect. She was selling from the moment she laid eyes on him.

She asked him questions — which I wanted to hear in detail later — and she listened to his answers.

Slowly, as he talked, her eyes roved about his face and then about his body. Quite distracting really, if you're having a conversation with someone. But all the time, she held his gaze. He could not leave staring into her eyes for a minute.

She would, by now, have 'sussed' his reason for being there. She would have seen his all-too light lipstick and realized, whatever he would say, that the lipstick he said he wanted would be for him. To use on himself — either alone or with a partner. She knew now. It would be a very short time before he knew that she knew! Then, what would he do? He had to go through with this — he had promised himself.

Next thing, I saw her reach into the display and bring up three lipsticks. She returned to the display and brought up a lip pencil. I hadn't even talked with him about those! He/she had never used one, that was for sure. Then, I saw her take his hand and one-by-one, she applied the three lipsticks to the back of his right hand. She then pointed to her own lips, clearly explaining what lip-liner could do.

It was Annie who studied her face intently, hearing every word, smiling occasionally.

Before long, it was clear that a selection had been made… and a lipstick and a lip-liner pencil were bought….. That was it. I turned to get out of the way of his exit from the store. Only when a looked back, did I see that the conversation had continued…..

To cut a long story short, he came away with foundation - Dior's best for everyday living for a girl — and eyeshadow……. exactly in the palette of shades that would 'go' with his/her new hair colour.

I ran out of items to be 'interested in' around the store before he — the buyer - and she — the seller - finished his purchasing. I had to make an exit. Looking forward to his description of the whole encounter, I hurried home. There was no time to go to the fashion shops.... That could wait! Take your time! I thought......... Saturday was proving to be better than I could have hoped.

************

More revelations!

Back home, I prepared the house for a relaxing 'rest of the day'. If that meant sex…. so be it. If it didn't, I could wait. The morning's excursion had kept me warm and wet between my legs and so there was a good excuse to indulge myself with the fucker until he returned.

When husband came through the door, it was as if I'd been there all morning. I was laying on the sofa with my legs spread apart, the business end of the fucker in my hand, the thicker, rounded end, inside my wet little pussy. I was practising squeezing it with my vagina muscles whilst stroking it as if it were my own cock. I must have made an impression…….

"Well, hellooooooo! Have I had a good day… and so have you!" He laughed, immediately sinking to his knees before me and taking the fucker in his mouth. He nearly swallowed the whole thing before his lips reached my clitoris and all the bells began to ring!!! Hell, he knew how to make me cum!!!

Later, and it must have been much later, we sat together talking again. He was excited and insisted on telling me all about the encounter — the one he didn't know that I'd observed. I sat spell-bound by the enthusiasm and total indulgence he displayed…..

As he told me all of this, I just looked at him in adoration. What a super guy I'd married!

"It was heaven, honey — just like you said it could be. I got to the store before it opened and I just waited with a few other people for the doors to be opened. I was nearly wetting myself the thought of what I was going to do. There was never any question: I was going to do this…. I couldn't let you down, you giving me these wonderful undies to share…. I asked a young lady from the staff where the cosmetics area was and she was very helpful. She was a honey, really, and I talked with her for quite a while. I knew where I had to go anyway — but it was good to talk to someone before meeting the sales assistant lady.

There was no doubt when I got to the right place that I was early. Nobody around — several counters weren't staffed. So, I browsed the various counters and found the Dior one — it seemed right to go for theirs. I looked at their display and suddenly, from nowhere, came this beautiful creature. She was maybe ten years older than me…. and boy! was she ready to sell me some-thing!? She was immaculate — her hair, her clothes, her make-up; she was 100%, full-on, "you're mine" — her eyes were riveting — I just couldn't take my eyes off hers. She was clearly studying me….. All in the first ten seconds…. Then, she said "What may I ask are you looking for today?" It was as if she already knew.

I told her I was here to buy some lipstick. "Oh, for everyday, or for a special evening perhaps?", she asked.

"A special." I told her. "Hmmmm", she thought and clearly pondered my face and said "Would this be a special evening for you or your partner?" Well, what could I say….? "Well, it's for me seeing as you ask. I'm, er… going out this evening." All the confidence I had drained away in a split second, it seemed. Zoe - you can't imagine it...... or perhaps you can..... I was totally transfixed by her mouth and her soft smooth skin."

"Have you worn lipstick often?", she asked, pointedly looking at my lips. Again, I faltered, What should I have said? Best be honest, I thought. "Well, I'm getting practice." That sounded like a good answer. it seemed to satisfy her. "Like this morning, eh?", she laughed, emphasizing that she knew I'd worn lipstick today."

He had not been embarrassed by the question. He'd just lost the confidence that we'd built before he left home. Lost it in the face of this fine looking woman — a woman who didn't mock or treat him with disdain. She was a consummate sales professional…… Here was a buying signal.

"I told her that I needed a choice of evening colours and she then confounded me totally by asking if I wanted a lip-liner pencil too! Needless to say, I'd no idea. So I asked her to show me — like you said to do. And she did. She put three lipsticks on the back of my hand and said that the lip-liner would go with all three. Then she showed me how her own lips were outlined in a deeper red than the lips themselves. She wasn't going to let me go without one of those too!"

As far as I could tell, by this stage, he was in full role-play mode, acting the way any girl would do when buying cosmetics for the first time. And he loved it.

"Then, as I was getting ready to pay and leave… she says……

"Now, you need foundation to help with the whole picture. It can make your skin look radiant and it'll smooth out any slight imperfections that you want to hide." What a woman!".

"Like my acne scars, you mean?????" He rushed on. "I just had to buy some….. Oh, and she sold me some eyeshadow too. She said that would go very well with the hair colour I'd chosen… See….she knew all about me. How did she do that?"

I got a moment to say something between his breaths….. "She used her eyes, honey — that's all." And she had done so. She had read all his needs, all of his uncertainties, and she'd made the sale. I thought I should get to meet this woman..

"So, the you left the department store and what did you do next?" I pressed for details of his morning as he'd clearly spent at least another half-hour at the shops — while I was otherwise engaged with the dildo.

"Well, I was almost exhausted so I went for a coffee down by the M&S store and I sat in the sunshine there before going in to look around.", he said casually — all-too-casually!

This wasn't part of the plan, but I was intrigued. He had gone on, without me.... and into the shopping centre and to the M&S store where he had bouth his panties before.

He rushed on with his story… which was becoming a confession: "What the hell, I thought, I'd like to buy one of those body shaper things you described — that hold in your tummy and thighs and that give you a bra shape integrated at the same time. I got one in a gold lacy lycra finish. I do hope you like it!"

And then he came home. To me. To tell me. To share his experiences with me. heaven!

The rest of the day was quiet by comparison. His having been shopping, my having spied upon his exploits, his buying more than planned, my coming home for a play, his going to M&S as well, my hearing his description…. what could surpass these things?

I suggested that he get undressed and show me his body shaper. We spent the rest of the day slipping from lazy sex to casual browse-feeding and occasional wine-drinking…… What a way to spend a Saturday!

Again, though, as quiet times engulfed us, I found myself wondering about where our confused sexualities were taking us. I knew I was a sound hetero-girl. I may have dallied with bi-experiences in the past, but now I had Annie… I had no need. Annie was once a firm hetero-male and professed still to be so. She'd never experienced a homosexual urge in her life. Still hadn't. She, as a he, wasn't gay…… He wasn't homosexual… but Annie had exclusive leanings towards being a lesbian!!!! What a man! I loved every inch of her, all the more!

...the story continues..............

Sunday arrived and we spent the day reading, catching up on the newspapers, television, writing a letter or two, and being quiet and calm. Take it easy. That was important to do. Slow the down-hill rush in sexual encounters and experimentation. There was plenty of time!

A Wife’s Indulgence - chapter 9
By Zoe, a friend of WannabeGinger’s

Sunday passed quietly, the way weekends used to be. Reading the papers, phoning friends, taking care of jobs around the home, flirting occasionally, hoping for a god fuck later on. This time it was a little different. We were ten days into my planned changes for my husband, Andy. Only ten days, and so much had happened. It was right to take "time out". I hadn't hoped that we would come this far, this quickly. But we had.

He was dressed in his own pretty underwear and had borrowed a light and quite feminine top to wear with a pair of cotton trousers, my cotton trousers. Today, I was "the wife". My own gear for the day was ultra-feminine, so I could look upon him/her as my girlfriend.
Later that night, I wanted to talk over what we would do next, sometime, but no rush. Andy’s femininity was developing very nicely indeed — and faster than I could possibly have anticipated.

He kissed me fully on the mouth as he went to the kitchen for a drink. His lipstick tasted wonderful.

"Martini?", he asked. It was only 4pm……. but hell, why not?! "If you mean it how I think you mean it, then yes please." I replied. Take it slowly, I thought.

"Oh, I do mean it.", he answered.

The taste of his lipstick lingered on my own lips. How nice, he was thinking nothing of wearing lipstick all weekend. Just treated it as matter-of-fact…. he wanted to look and feel good, so he wore his lipstick. After ten days, that was a milestone long passed.
We lounged around with Martinis in hand, chilled out in the extreme.

"I'll take a shower in a while." He said, in a carefree way. "…… Can I use some of your Chanel Five Bath Crá¨me?" Clearly, he wanted to emerge feeling very feminine from his bathroom venture. "Of course, my love. But you might make more of the fragrance if you took a bath and took more time. " I ventured to suggest. "Good idea!", he/she answered, the "she" side coming through again.

"Make sure you cleanse your skin and get rid of all your make-up, darling Annie. I know you only have a light amount on but a girl has to take care of her skin……!" I teased as he set foot on the stairs.

"Not so much of the 'girls' until I'm changed pleased.", he replied.

"You'll find a tube of Veet on the handbasin in the bathroom. It's a depilatory crá¨me and I think you're ready to use one of those." I remember saying, not knowing how he would react. "You just follow the instructions on the pack — it doesn't take very long at all and your skin can be lovely and soft for a week or more."

"Just where do you suggest I use it then?" His reply indicated no rejection of the idea. "Don't you shave your legs? I mean, I'm sure you do. Where else do you want the hair to go from?"

Well, that was a leading question……..

"Darling, wherever you'd feel comfortable with softer silky skin…….. I'd suggest you do shave your legs — you can Veet them another time, but put the crá¨me on your tits and down to your bikini line…… You can use it round your balls because it's for sensitive areas….. and your cock would be lovely for me to play with if it were completely clear of hair…….. Just use your imagination…. If you were a girl… use it where would you want to be touched….. and there's your answer!".

I couldn't be plainer than that. Womanhood called!

Little did he know that I had planned to spend Sundays this way every week in future… And little did he know that I intended to make Saturdays and Friday afternoons his 'girly' days… every week from now on. Could I pull it off? Could I get his agreement? Better still, could I get Annie to suggest that arrangement???

I lounged back in the sofa and finished my Martini as the sounds came from the bathroom. He was evidently enjoying himself greatly. A depilatory…… that was quite a step too….. Nothing permanent, of course…. it could all grow back………… but it never has, dear Reader…. it never has because it's one of the most feminine feelings, smoothing your own hand, adorned with nail polish, over soft hairless skin….. that a man can experience! How far would he have gone? I couldn't wait to find out.

"How's it going?" I called up, hoping for an invitation to join him/her.

"I never knew I had so much hair!!", he shrieked in reply, "…..and it's all gone!"

I rushed up the stairs and burst into the bathroom…… He had just stepped into the bath and was luxuriating in the mellow-smelling foam. I wanted to jump in there with him.

"If it works that well on the body, I'll give up shaving my face…… That would be a wonderful release from male-ness… Have I ever told you how much I hate shaving my face!???"
"You might have to leave it on for an hour… so shaving is something you're still stuck with, I'm afraid." I giggled.

I knew that hormones would do the trick but had no idea in my plan that we would go that far… and nor have we since…… I like my boy's / girl's cock too much to risk it losing interest because of hormone overload!

Annie was in the bath and quite vulnerable and I couldn't resist taking advantage of the situation. She lay there, up to her shoulders in a warm bathful of beautifully fragranced water. Gently, I slid my hand in and under the water, soon finding the skin of his thigh. It was soft and smooth to the touch. Gently, I explored… down towards his knee, then up towards his…… you got it! His lovely hairless cock. He had used the crá¨me all over his cock and his balls. Totally smooth! His cock was already engorged if not fully erect. My hand slid over the shaft and reached the tip where the head was crying out for a wanking. He had not indulged himself — but I wondered how long he could have left it, lying there as he was, before he'd gone for it……

His own hand joined mine and the rhythm of the stroking became established. Not enough to over-excite him… but fast enough to excite me! My pussy was soon very wet though not available to touch. It was hidden beneath my casual clothes. The fucker was called for!
Satisfied that he was nowhere near cumming, and yet totally absorbed in pleasure, I was able to leave him for just a few moments.

I traced my steps into the bedroom to find the gorgeous pleasure-giving toy. Beside the bed where we had left it last evening. I picked it up and gave it a good licking — covering both ends….. The 'usual' business end and the base which fitted so well when I felt like I wanted a cock of my own….. Which end to use this evening? I couldn't get in the bath with him and, even when he would get out to dry himself, I would not be ready to be fucked….. So, it was the 'base' end to start with… to give me the feel of a cock between my thighs that I loved so much.

I slid my fingers inside myself to prepare for the moment to come….. standing there with one leg up on the bed, I found myself "very accessible"! I parted my labia and explored my little clitoris which was more than ready…. already! A girl’s finger knows exactly where a girl’s pleasure comes from…… I began to tremble as the wave of an orgasm came upon me…….. I had to sit on the bed and allow nature to take its course. I had one of those "promising" orgasms that I knew would be followed by others that evening. My legs shook and my back arched as I groaned with pleasure……..

Before I knew it, Andy was at the foot of the bed, swathed in a pink bath sheet, kneeling as he forced my legs apart. His tongue descended into the bush that hid my little love-nest and he began to drive me to even greater heights of ecstasy. All I could sense was this fragrant half-woman with his/her skin protected by her towel giving me the most gorgeous licking I could ever have dreamed of.

All around the fucker his/her tongue traced its path. It slid in and out. His skill would have matched any lesbian's use of a dildo and, more importantly, her skills with her tongue excelled them all!

For the first time, I slipped into a fantasy where he became she and she was making love to me - I had a lesbian orgasm with him for the first time……(and not the last!) Heaven! I was glad I hadn't wanked him off in the bath… there were delights to savour for later in the evening….. and a mouthful of "her" cum was high on my agenda!

As he/she stood up, I was conscious that all she had to be feminine with was the fragrance she wore. No nail polish, no make-up, no clothes, no hair set to die for….. Just a him smelling like a "her". And I fell in love all over again. What a wonderful man Annie was to go along with my fantasy like this!

No words had been spoken for it seemed like hours……..

No words were necessary. After my passion subsided, eventually, there was time to settle on the bed, slipped under the duvet. He was naked, I was half-clothed with the fucker discarded next to my pillow. He reached over me and took it, taking it into his mouth and giving it another good licking, end-to-end, deep inside, a nibble to its head……. Oh, how seductive he made that seem.

But he was a guy, being a guy, smelling like a beautiful girl. I ran my hands through his wet hair, making curls around my fingers, quite tightly. To which he purred with pleasure.
I ran my hands down to his chest where I was able to find a nipple and give it some serious teasing. Making a clawing motion, it hardened delightfully.

"You can do that again for me, anytime!" I whispered, breaking the silence.

His wonderfully smooth skin yielded to my touch and he snuggled up even closer.

"Can it be that what we've been doing has made us better lovers than before?…. I mean, there's just such an intensity……" His train of thought led him to go quiet again.

He was right; there was a great deal more passion in our love-making that week than before. Had we grown tired of eachother before, I wondered. There were certainly more ideas and greater expectations all of a sudden. Maybe we had got in a bit of a rut as far as the bedroom was concerned……

The bedroom, the living room, the stairs!!!!! We were now having sex in all corners of the house. The appearance of this new character in our lives……Annie…… a character I had invented, it has to be said, had enlivened our sex life.

"Just enjoy it, my love." I said warmly. "You're much more randy these days.. and that makes me so much more horny I can't imagine going back….."

"Going back to what? Just being you and me? Not being you and me and someone else besides….? Just how do you think we can do that now… I'm just loving what we're doing and, so long as it's just for fun between us, what could be better?" He appeared concerned that I might be taking a step back perhaps? Not in the slightest.

I reflected on my plan for Andy/Annie.. and us. What had already happened was much faster than I had dreamed would be the case. Perhaps I thought he would resist more than he did in his initial "wobble" and the minor crisis that precipitated then. Gosh! That seemed such a long time ago but it was just a few days.

I thought how the steps we'd taken had been joyful, even if he had other "wobbles" to come. Really, I had to be prepared for them.

The latent lesbian in me had not been hidden for as long as maybe it should have been but I was already along the way towards his being my "girlfriend". Maybe both our sexualities were moving towards eachother. What an intriguing scenario.

Ten days on, I had him wearing underwear and make-up. His personality had softened dramatically. I, too, had changed. I was wearing my more boyish clothes but I had not given up on the make-up. The change in me had been equally noticeable. I became more assertive and certainly more so when we were in bed. I had taken the initiative in sex much more than I had previously.

"I've loved the way you've let me take the lead in bed much more than before, my honey. Does that make you feel good? It sure as hell does make me so."

"Mmmmmm. I don't mind admitting it, the pressure to always be the one to start things off was getting to me like I'd never said. It's a great thing to have you start things going. I mean, I like to seduce you sometimes but I find it's a wonderful feeling being led, so far, that you're in charge and I don't have to think about what to do next. That was always a problem for me. Well, not always, but frequently." He was being very open and honest. I had to be so too.

"You know, you make a very nice girlfriend."

"Well, thank you….Zoe, my love.", he said, smiling.

"……. you do too. I mean, I don't need a boyfriend. That's not what this is about. I love you boy-to-girl and it seems girl-to-girl. When you're making love to me, I can really feel how a girl feels when she's treated right."

"Give me a kiss, darling Annie." I mused as I moved closer to him. And we kissed for a while, with no pressure to get randy at all. Just like two girlfriends would do who were comfy with eachother.

My thoughts then went back to my plans for him/her. Where would we be in, say, a month? … or three months… or a year? I didn't want, ever, to lose my husband. That much I was certain about. I wanted him as my lover, for ever. My male lover. I'd read stories about transgendered people and "people born in the wrong body" and men going off to leave their families and find life "as a woman".

No thanks.

I was going to keep him. No hormones then, no thoughts of surgery. Ridiculous. This is about sex and love - or love and sex — it's for fun! Evidently, we both have fetishes… and these need to be indulged.

A month's time? Well, I thought, it would be perfect to have him like this every weekend. Too soon? Probably. OK, three months' time? More likely. Every Friday he would get up as a guy and go to bed as a girl. In between, he would rid himself of all those male habits and behaviours. He would make himself as feminine as he could for my arrival home.

And then I hit upon a positive push towards that goal…. I would have him come to me at the salon for a hair style and some pampering.

Yes! This seemed like a good time to consolidate where we were and what I had in mind. We had taken time out for the last few days…… until this "bath-time"!!!

My thoughts spilled out: "Darling, there's no way I want to go back to "just you and me" as you call it. I love there being three of us in this marriage…. and it isn't the slightest bit "crowded"…. as Diana once said! Quite the contrary, I'd love it if we can see the way to make this part of our lives together."

"What do you suggest, my honey… 'cos that's what I'd like too… for it to be something we know to look forward to. It's been a bit breath-taking so far…. I've loved every new idea but, phew.. when's another coming??!!"

"Precisely, my lover……." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "…… I'd like us to look forward to, say, a couple of days a week, a couple of evenings and bed-times too, when we can know that you'll be your alternative self and I can take care of "her"…… Maybe, I can be boyish at the same time, sometimes?"

"A couple of days a week? How d'you mean?" He pressed me to say what came next.
"Alright, how would it be if when I left home for the salon on Friday mornings, we would know that you'd be all girly by the time I got home? Then, you could stay that way through Friday night, Saturday. and into Sunday which we can finish like tonight. With you bathed and smoothed and back into boy's gear?"

"I like the sound of that."

"Better still, what I'd really like you to do is come to the salon every Friday afternoon and have me do your hair…….. like a regular customer……. with nobody there knowing that, in fact, you're my darling husband who spends his weekends as a girl!"

"Do you mean coming in dressed? I don't think I could do that…. I want this to be private, between ourselves……" His face showed real worry now.

"No, no, no. You misunderstand me. You being a girl is MY province! Nobody else should share that! No, I mean you should come to the salon as a client with your own requirements…. which I then deliver. It's up to you if and how you explain why you want to come to have me cut, set, style, and maybe even colour your hair…… It's a free country. You want a feminine hairstyle…. You have to explain that — but you don’t need to say WHY! I'd be delighted to do it for you. You’re another customer."

I was imploring him to go along with the idea.

"Well, I've been out with it looking extraordinary, so I guess it's no different.." He agreed!

"It's no different to your going to the cosmetics counters and the underwear department in M&S. So what? You'll just have to call and make an appointment. You have to do that. You must call yourself and book in with me. Just say you've been recommended to me. Whoever takes the call will take care of your arrangements."

I was becoming very 'matter-of-fact' about the whole idea but, in truth, I was feeling quite horny just suggesting the arrangement.

"None of the girls there have met you…. yet!….. So you'll be a complete stranger to them. I'll just act like we've not met either…….. I'd love to have you tell me just how you want me to do your hair in the hustle-bustle of the salon. I think you'd love it… knowing how hair is your 'thing', honey!" I wanted his inner-fantasies to run riot.

He sat on the side of the bed, wrapped in his huge bath towel. He said nothing for a moment or two. His hand strayed up to his hair…. He stroked it, turning to the mirror on the dressing table…

"So it stays as our secret? How much do I have to tell them.. your colleagues, that is… And have you ever had a guy come in with such a request before — won't they think….?" He still seemed uncertain about the entry into the salon and how things would go with my fellow stylists. "Whether or not they've done it for someone else, I'd feel everso vulnerable……"

"To what, my honey? Vulnerable says something nasty might happen. You really really don't have to worry. They're a super bunch of girls and they'd love to help I'm sure. Don't you know that we girls are attracted by men who have a pronounced feminine side to their personalities. You'd just be one that's had the courage to indulge it. They'll love you, believe me!"

I needed to get a commitment here…… This week would be an important one if we were to set a routine in place that brought him to my bed as a beautifully coiffed and dressed girl every Friday evening. How much did I want that then?! My Annie! And only ten days after we started……. This was going better than I could have dreamed.

"You just call like any customer would. You tell whoever answers that you've been recommended to have your hair done by Kerry — that's the name I use at the salon as you know — and you book a time for Friday afternoon. Try for around 2.00pm; just after lunch. That will give me enough time for what I have in mind…. but more of that later."

"What do I ask for. They'll need to know, surely."

"A shampoo and set. Be very explicit. It's not a cut and blow dry. That's what all our male clients have. You want something different, don't you? You want your hair set…… They'll know what you mean if you say that. That means rollers and a hooded dryer for a time. They need to know because the diary plans my workload and I won't be with you all through."

"So who will be then?" Mild consternation. It wouldn't just be me doing his hair.

"Well, there's the shampooing. I don't do that. You'll get the Apprentices to do that. We have two. One is Penny, she's a honey. Just out of school. Very attractive. Going through a bit of a 'Goth' phase but stunning for all of that — she's got blue-black hair and has a flash of crimson hair at the side. She specializes in a different colour of lipstick every day as well. She has the clothes to match and the salon's clients love her . She would love to do your shampooing."

"I like the sound of her already…..", he mused.

"Then there's Huw, the young man who's also learning the trade with us. He's a delight and well-suited to hairdressing. Gay as a day in springtime, he is. Not in a feminine way… he's more into body-building and fitness. Probably screws like a Black and Decker power drill!"

"Him, I'm less keen on, thank you very much!" Andy’s face showed total recoil…. perhaps we should keep them apart, I made a mental note.

"Who else would I meet, then?….. I mean, who else might get their hands on me? He needed to know just how much our privacy was going to be invaded, it was clear.

"Well, there's Emma the Colourist. She's a delight but in a different way. She is soooo skilful in the way she analyses and recommends colours for clients, she's an absolute star! If you were to choose to have a colour job done, then I would trust her to do it best of all. After all, I do colours myself but only really for clients whose hair I know very well……. And you could say I know yours, but then again, nobody there is to know that are they? You're a stranger!"

This would be wonderful theatre to be played out if I had my way.

"I'd like to play with the colour but shouldn't we do that here at home?" He was uncertain.
"Well, the salon's colour choice is much more varied……. let's leave it till you get there, eh? Anyway, before that we have to set up how you'll look."

This was true. I had to get him thinking about how he would present him/herself. on arrival at the salon in just a few days' time. He would be' all boy' in the days in between now and then.

"If it's Friday afternoon and we're going to spend the weekend as you suggest, then how do I come to the salon dressed. What do I wear? Do I come as a guy or…..? I can't pass myself off as a girl, that's for sure……… Help!!!!"

I had to take control here….. He was in no position to decide. Boy Monday to Thursday, girl Friday to Sunday. That was the way it would be.

"Well, honey. You get up on Friday like the boy you've been all week……….. And you stay that way till lunchtime……."

"Then you can borrow some of my boyish things. First of all though, you need girly undies. You can wear some of your own knickers and, if you really feel bold, you can wear a bra as well. Then, I'd suggest a pair of tights — to save the hassle of suspenders and stockings. Now, my boyish things…. the yellow trousers would look good, and the bronze shirt. The shirt is dark enough to hide a bra if you're wearing one. You should comb your hair into as boyish a style as you can…… that'll make the most of the transformation you'll enjoy at the salon. And that's it. You're ready to face us! You can walk or drive to the salon. There's always parking, but you might fancy the walk home looking so special — as you surely will!"

OooooooooooooH I was looking forward to this!!!!!!

It was Sunday evening now and the week ahead was going to be as "normal" as I could make it. If it were not, how could the weekends be special? I decided to be brusque and organizing. I sent him off to get ready for bed and, maybe, a little sex before sleep.

**************

Monday and Tuesday passed very quickly and I was looking or listening out at the salon for a call from a new customer who had been recommended to come to me for hairdressing. Nothing had come. Hubby's behaviour had been entirely normal during the mornings and evenings. He was in "boy" mode. It was almost as though the weekend had been forgotten. I had to venture to ask when he would be calling when we talked on Tuesday evening.

We sat over dinner, talking about what was in the national news and about eachothers' day and how things had gone. Everyday stuff. There had to be a moment for me to ask……
"The salon's very busy just now. My diary's nearly full up……. (I had kept slots free on Friday afternoon but he didn't need to know that). I was wondering…… when you might be calling?"

"I'll do it tomorrow… honest….. I'm just struggling to find the words…….." (Nothing wrong in that). "I'm just not sure how to start….." (Oh, come ON!!! I felt like saying).

"Well, we did talk about that and it's up to you… really….. It's not difficult." (I felt like I was talking to a twelve year old!)

"OK, OK, I will…. honest. I'm really looking forward to it. D'you think I should ask for a colour as well as a shampoo and set?"

I repeated myself, quite shortly: "Well, we did talk about that and it IS up to you… really….. It's not difficult. It's a question of whether you want to enjoy yourself that extra bit…. You don't have to… Really, we can do a colour here, or you can forget it…." I was losing my patience but the last thing we needed as an argument about this. If it went that way, the weekend would be a disaster, I could tell.

"OK, OK, I'll think about that some more. I was thinking about the clothes I'll wear and I'll try on those things of yours in the morning on Friday. I'm sure they'll be right."
The evening closed with some really quite rampant sex which was great fun and we went to sleep exhausted. It was clear that even talking about dressing and having his hair done made him feel really sexy. ……………Me too! I slept with our lovely fucker between my thighs!

I left him the following morning with a reminder to call the salon, urgently. He didn't need to know that there was an appointment waiting for him in my schedule for Friday.

"Remember, I'm known as Kerry at the salon!"

I overheard the conversation from just one side when he called at about 9.15am. The phone was answered by Emma, our Colourist ……………………

"Hello, yes….. that's right….. Kerry? Yes, she's our top stylist………."

"Oh, yes…. do you mind if I ask who recommended you to us?…."

"Oh, not to worry……. We're delighted when someone is so pleased they send a friend along. Now, what can Kerry do for you?"

I could imagine him at home, having summoned up the courage to make the call. I thought how much I loved him… even if there were no 'her' to his personality. I vowed that I would make him especially happy that night in bed!

Emma continued…… "Friday…. let me look…… Yes, she has two free slots in the afternoon. What time would suit you best? Oh, before that, what would you like doing… a cut & blow dry?………"
"Oh, really , ……a cut and a shampoo and set….. right…… That's interesting…. Of course, we can do that for you — it is for yourself, is it?"

"Right, and your hair is fairly long is it?" "…..Hmmm, OK, well, there would be no problem at all. Kerry loves to meet a new client and get to know what they really want. Is that all you need… the shampoo and set?"

The next words showed that he hadn't chickened-out at this point. He must have asked what other services we offered.

"…..Well, we do conditioning treatments…. and even colour too…… Have you ever thought of that?…….. You have? Oh brilliant! …. Well, my name's Emma and I'm the Colour specialist here and I'd be the one to take care of you if you wanted to experiment a little. Have you ever coloured your hair before……?"

Emma listened for a moment, then went on: "No, no. Kerry could do that for you but it's just that I'm the specialist and she's extra busy this week. I'm busy too but I would love to take care of your hair……"

"Wow, that's really cool of you to say so…. well, we should wait until I see you, so you'd better come in 15 minutes earlier and, as soon as you arrive, we can talk about what would suit you best. I mean there are lots of choices for you to make. You have to think whether you want just a temporary rinse that lasts a few washes, or if you want to have it semi-permanent and be the same colour for four or five weeks. What's your basic shade?"

"Oh, classic English mouse, eh? And what colours have you done it before?"

"Really? That's so cool! Mahogany and Burgundy are your favourites…… They're quite bold colours aren't they. No, they didn't last, I understand, but I bet they were fun to have!"

He really had been charmed by Emma's approach. She had made him quite relaxed on the phone. It told me that she would do a perfect job on him when he arrived. I wondered what she would end up giving him as a colour!

"OK, so we'll see you on Friday, just before 2.00pm. Oh, what's your name for the diary?"
Panic at the other end of the phone — he couldn't use our married name!

"Spell that, please…. oh… p..a..r..t..o..n……….. No, I won't make a joke, you've heard it too many times, no doubt. Bye bye…….." And Emma put the phone down.

"Bye bye, Dolly!" I heard her say. Couldn’t resist it!

"You'll never guess, Kerry……..", she called over to me. "You have a challenge on Friday!"
"What ever's that?" I asked, feigning surprise.

"You have a guy coming in who wants a cut and set….. and I may even get to do him a colour!"

"A cut and blow-dry, surely?" I went on with missing the point.

"No, indeed not. He was very specific. He wants a cut and a roller set. He said he has a style in mind but wants to look in our style books. He wants a girly-do!" Emma was insistent. "He sounded really nice……. just like the brother you wish you'd had… or I wish I had."

The time and date was arranged. There could be only one point of turning back — and that would be for him to chicken out on the whole deal. I would make sure he wouldn't do that. Even if I had to call him ten times on Friday morning to secure his compliance. I decided to go home via M&S and buy him some extra clothes to wear on the day. After all, I knew his sizes and he deserved them!

**************

When I got home, he couldn't wait to ask me: "Did you hear? I called! I spoke to a honey of a girl called Emma. She was fabulous. I really felt I knew her already. She said nice things about you but she wants to do a colour on me if I choose to have one…."
Gushing, he was…. He really had got the bit between his teeth on the plans. I felt it was easy to close in on the colour idea.

"So, it sounds like the colour's a possibility then?"

"More than that….. it's not if, but which…. colour that is!" He had decided.

"Well, in that case, you deserve a new outfit for the day. I just passed by the stores and bought you this pair of girls' chinos and an almost-but-not-quite pretty shirt. I think they'll suit you very well. And I got you this pair of sandals which have a low heel and straps around the ankle. They'll be super on you but I suggest you drive to the salon. Not so easy to walk home in these!"

I did, indeed, make his even complete with a sex session that rivalled any we had enjoyed in the last couple of weeks. I knew how much he liked to go down on me with the fucker in my pussy with its head outside. There was something vaguely suggestive of a blow-job on another guy about that, but what the hell. He never admitted to that and, genuinely, I'm sure he's never felt that way about it. He describes it as my being a girl with an extra… just the way we describe him when he's full-on in girly mode! That evening, he had the most exquisite orgasm and then went down on me into his own cum.

Deeee……lightful!

**************

The next two days flew by, still with his boy-mode behaviour intact…….. although I could tell that his girly side was raging away under the surface. I was tempted to suggest that he wore some lipstick while I was out but I didn't. He was thinking about such things enough as it was. He was almost tormented by the waiting that he had to endure. How much did I enjoy that!!

Heaps and heaps!

My work at the salon continued in its routine but Emma was constantly reminding me of Friday's prospect. I think she was looking forward to the day at least as much as I was.

"What do you think he'll be like? Will he be girly anyway… or will he be a regular guy? I do wonder if we've seen him before? I don't recognise the name but you would…. wouldn't you, Kerry,….. I mean…. Parton…… I wonder if he'll want to go blonde….? He didn't mention having been a blonde before……… Maybe I can persuade him……. Better start with a rinse."

"All in good time." I tried to calm her enthusiasm. "He'll probably be very nervous and we have to take care of that. Put him at his ease. Don't rush him. Maybe I should talk to him about the style he would like before we talk about colours???? I want to put him at ease."

"Of course, I won't rush him….. Maybe, just maybe, he'll become a regular. I mean, this is probably a one-off, right? But wouldn't it be great to see him back here…? Emma was lost in a dream!

Damned right it will be……. That was my plan, for sure…. He would be doing this most Fridays from now on and he would certainly become known at the salon…. If not as my husband, but as my 'special client on a Friday'!

***************

Friday morning dawned and I had to leave for an early appointment. All I could do was lay out his new (girl's) trousers and the pretty shirt, his bra and knickers and his strappy shoes and a pair of tights. These were a special high-sheen finish.

I told him to make sure that he showered very well indeed and shaved to within an inch of his life, leaving it late enough for no stubble to re-grow before evening. No make-up for the visit to the salon (just in case he had thought it would be alright)…… and he was ready for me to go. I kissed him fully on the mouth and said "I will see you later. Don't be late and do decide about that colour before you get to see us at the salon."

**************

And off I drove, with my heart in my mouth!

**************

His arrival at the salon five hours later was a revelation.

I was busy with a client so didn't see him come through the door but, knowing the time was coming for him to show up, I was glancing towards the reception area every minute or two . I was finishing a complex cut on a gorgeous thirty-something who I could have fancied if I were a guy…and did fancy on the sly! She had a geometric bob-style that required absolute precision to show off the wonderful colour that Emma had done for her earlier.

And there he was. Standing there.

Talking with Penny, our young female Apprentice. Penny seemed to be in control of this new customer. He looked like the proverbial Ugly Duckling. His hair was completely unkempt. His face, though freshly cleansed, wore a very uncertain look. Not a smile, not confident like I'd hoped he would be.

Nervous? For sure.

His clothes, however, redressed the image rather. He did look like a guy in quite girly clothes… but the casual observer would say he was a guy…. until they saw his shoes! The shoes were the killer! They were anything but a guy's! Heavens, had I chosen well!! His ankles showed just a breath of stocking, slightly shiny… beautiful. They betrayed any sense of true maleness. This was a guy wanting to be turned into a girl for the day.. or the weekend!
I really hoped he would leave, two hours later maybe, feeling much better than he did right then.

Penny clearly asked him to have a seat and offered him a drink which he declined. He sat on the small bench in the full glare of the street where people passing could see him. I had toyed with the idea of having him moved but decided that was part of a woman's experience coming in there. Just as much as leaving with hair done and feeling stunning.

I couldn't hurry the final phase of the cut that I was doing so when Penny came to say that my next client had arrived, I suggested he talked with Emma first. I looked across towards him and saw that he was immersed in the style selection books that we have for clients to see on arrival. There was plenty for him to look over - and fantasize about - in there.

Emma could hardly be restrained and was there in a flash, sat beside him/her ….(yes, he was that, between the two, sitting there. Either he could be a boyish girl who'd come in for a make-over, or he was a girly boy who had come in for exactly what he was going to have!).
Their conversation was lost in the noise of the salon.

How much I wanted to hear what was said.

Emma told me later that he had thought about having colour done and was certain he didn't want a permanent colour "yet"…..

"YET!?" I loved him more!

"But,…" she said, he was 'up for' as wild a temporary rinse as she could give him…… which, she said, gave her a dream ticket! He had added that he would come back if he liked what she did!

"COME BACK!" …. Oh, YES!

She would do an unusual thing with a temporary rinse…. she would use foils and apply two different colours. That would be sensational. It would take ten or fifteen minutes longer but would be worth it. I would have him/her to myself by half-past two.

"What colours will you use?" I asked, as she hadn't said.

"You wait…. it'll be a surprise for you too!"

Before I knew it, he was walking towards the shampoo basins where Penny and Huw were arguing.
There was a squabble going on over who should shampoo him/her. And it was a vocal squabble. Emma had to intervene. Thankfully, to save him/her being freaked out, Penny won the selection and Huw wasn't allowed to get his hands on my husband. Right decision.
The wash took a while as penny did a luxury job. Then, out of my sight, Emma led him/her to her colouring station and got to work with the foil squares, sectioning the hair this was and that as I knew she would be doing.

By the time twenty minutes had passed, I was finished with the cut and had sent my previous client on her way, looking stunning, if I say so myself. I hoped my husband would be as beautified.

Waiting at my styling place, I looked in the mirror and briefly admired my own girly reflection. I owed it to him/her to make the 'her' look as good as me. Then I saw the customer come round the screen beside me. The colour of his/her hair was stunning. The mousey-brown was now a mix of vibrant amber and gold.

"Wow" I murmured involuntarily…….

"You look stunning. ….Emma, well done you!" I said, as Emma stood beside her client basking in the praise. "I hope you'll keep that formula for next time!" I said, assuming now that there would be a next time for this, my husband's weekly transformation.

"Isn't it wonderful? I'm so delighted!" said Emma.

"I didn't think it was possible."…….was all he said.

"You wait until it dries — you’ll be stunned! I've got lots to work with now." I said, toying with strands of his hair. "…..and more when it grows a little, I hope. Now, you know my name’s kerry, how do you like to be known?" I said deliberately provoking him a little.

"Mmmmm…." was all he said!

“No, no, I need a name… I can’t call you that!” I teased him.

“Annie”.

"Come and sit with me, Annie. Tell me what style you have in mind. Let's look in those books and see if we can choose something just right………. Not too much cut…….. Let's plan for it to grow a little….. Get rid of these split ends…. But let’s keep what length you have and make the most of it. You said you might want it grown some?"

I took a brush and swept his hair to the left and to the right. I parted it at the crown, and then swept it from the sides, each in turn. I brushed upwards from the nape of his/her neck. My thoughts had already been formed but I decided there and then to change the plan… because of the impactful colour. I decided a heavily styled and mousse-d concoction would look best. Smooth over the top of the head, high at the crown, with a little back-combing and then wild curls brushed upwards from the nape of the neck to behind the crown. That would show the colour off, and it would be easy for Annie to master for herself….. if she had my help at home!.

And so it was. The suggestion met with Annie’s immediate approval and we got to work. Cutting his wet hair first and then getting on with the styling. The curls would be tight around the back and the rollers very small. Over the top, they would be as large as possible, to give volume and height.

Perfect.

One drawback. I hadn't thought of. Penny had won the shampooing, so Huw was to help with the setting….. He was to pass me every single roller and be close as each was tightly wound into my husband's hair. Too close for comfort? Inevitably, but again, a woman's experience.
Under the dryer for half an hour at least. Huw had to take Annie to the banks of dryers at the side of the salon. Huw had to offer the drink. Huw seemed to be everywhere!

"Not my type." Annie told me when Huw brought him back to the styling station.

Dressing his hair, I was conscious that the colours went well with the shirt he was wearing. Standing above him, the highlights glinted perfectly. I was conscious, only now, that I could see the outline of my husband's bra under the shirt. No doubt, he was revelling in the tightness across his chest and also the way his knickers folded around his cock. I couldn't tell but I'm sure that he was hard-on all the way through this particular afternoon. Delightful! And all mine — for later!

His eyes were transfixed upon my face as I worked. His smile had long since replaced the uncertain, unconfident look when he had arrived. He was, indeed, enjoying him/herself. I worked the back-combing hard to make the most of the length of his hair. It may have hurt a little but, what the hell? "No pain, no gain!" I said, as he winced a couple of times.
Soon, he was ready to admire the cut and the style.. and the colour… in the hand mirror that I held behind him. "I do hope it's what you'd been longing for." I said, inviting a statement of satisfaction.

"Oh, yes, I should have had this done months ago." He confessed.

"Well, what do you have planned for this evening?" I asked, as if I didn't know.

"A cosy night in, I guess…… With someone special."

"Well, I guess you'll be wanting to get off home to dress for the evening, won't you?" And with that I ushered Annie — my lover - from the styling area to the reception desk where she would pay for the experience she was enjoying.

"That's more than I've ever spent on my hair…", he said, handing over his credit card, "…. but it's been worth every penny." He paused. He thought for a moment. Then, he said….. "Would you have an appointment free at the same time next week?"

With a knowing smile, I said: "Well, let's see now….." Opening the salon's appointment book, I cast my eye down to the gap in the diary that I had been careful to have left. Just in case……

"Perfect. Same time, same requirements?"

"Oh, yes please…….. A set and the colour again please, if Emma can be free too."

Well, whatever she was doing, she would be. I would make sure of that!

And with that, Annie handed me the largest tip I’d ever received in my life as a hairdresser — and she left the salon…. feeling (and I may say looking) "a million dollars". She/he walked across the street to the car park with an air of confidence, even on those low heels. From the back, it looked like a young woman who had just been dolled-up to go out on the town tonight.

"His name is Annie." I told Emma, who giggled.... "Well, I'd like to get hold of her gun!"

I made a mental note to give Annie tuition on the best way to walk as a girl, as this was one clue to there being more to this 'girl' crossing the street than met the eye.

**************

Back home, and before I arrived there at the end of the working day, he showered, shaved again and moisturized his/her complexion and applied some basic make-up, leaving the exotic aspects for me to complete later that night. Just concealer, foundation, lipstick and the like. Without dressing again, he slipped into his dressing gown to move around the house with ease. Then, he prepared a light supper for the two of us, like a good 'house husband' should.
She/he was set up for the weekend. Goodness knows what he would have done if a random caller had come to the house.

He told me he had lounged around for an hour then, before putting on all his undies beneath the dressing gown, stepped into those strappy shoes again and got ready for my arrival home. That meant making sure we had everything in the bedroom just the way we would want it. Clothes for me, Martinis, fragrances, and last of all the 'fucker' that played such a complementary part in our love-making.

How delighted I was that he had no hang-ups about my enjoyment of the dildo. It meant so much that he could satisfy me several times while his own cock would be good for once - or if we were lucky, twice - a night. He would even give it a long and seductive licking and a half-down-the-throat job….. just as (he said) he imagined girls would do for eachother if there wasn't a guy around. Ohhhhh, yum, yum!!!

Chapter 10 will follow….. where we move on to this being customary each week and some further steps are taken along the road to our double-life together……
(And some more reflections from Annie him/herself)

Written by a loving wife who, with her husband's tacit agreement, embarked upon a plan to introduce a third person, Annie, into their marriage, this life story has reached just 2-3 weeks into the process. It does not involve submission or domination, transgendering, or homosexuality. It does involve graphic sexual experiences from time-to-time, as the rejuvenation of our love lives has been a wonderful consequence of my plan.

A Wife's Indulgence

by Zoe, a friend of WannabeGinger's

(Chapter 10)

This story describes the indulgence of one woman's (my own) desires by a loving husband who finds himself enjoying a new aspect to his existence. This chapter includes his reflections in those early days. He/she has now been a girl every weekend for three and a half years.

At the end of the last chapter, Andy was waiting for me to return home on the evening of the same day in which "Annie" had come to the hair and beauty salon where I work to have his hair cut, styled and coloured for the first time "in public".

I've asked him to pick up the story with a few thoughts of his own......

It's a long time ago now, three and a half years, and a lot has happened, but I can remember many of my feelings from those early weeks of my "change".

After a long time, I had married. Zoe, my bride, was… sorry, is!, a stunner and I love her very much. She has the longest legs imaginable and so is as tall as me. She wears her clothes with style and great variation. She has many looks, all of which I love and admire. She's a redhead, as most of the loves of my life have been. She's a hairdresser, which helps her keep ahead in that part of beauty care. She is always experimenting with a new look, stunning new clothes which all of her wages are devoted to, and maybe new cosmetics to match.

Our love-making was great in the first few years we were married. The only problem I ever had was being always the one to initiate the process. As much as she would always respond… well, nearly always, it was down to me to make the first move and begin it. And, d'you know what, I didn't always want to be the one. For a start, I wasn't always certain that I was ready and, if that was the case, I might lose it mid-way. And I did sometimes, which disappointed us both. But it made me feel guilty. She did tend to take it personally. Like I didn't fancy her enough……. Well, nothing was further from the truth.

When all "this" began, "this" being my cross-dressing with my wife actively involved, there had been some instances of "losing it" and maybe a need to "pep-up" our love-making was in order. Whether others would go this path is up to them. We did.

The recollection of being offered lipstick is an easy one to share. Imagine, if you will, there being a long, long session of good ol' fashioned fucking. It reaches a "pause". Many times, that is needed, to enable the loving to go on for longer.

I had always let Zoe know that I liked her to wear make-up. The more the better really. It's a statement of "being different" for a girl, in my view. It's saying "you can't have this but I can."

Offering the lipstick to me broke that. In effect, she was saying "you can have this too…. let's share something else." Quite whether that was what was in her mind when she did so, I don't know. But there was a sudden and dramatic surge in my libido, tired though I may have been. Wow! did I find the touch of the lipstick electric!.

Memories of how much I had enjoyed those evenings with the college girls came flooding back. How sexy did it make me feel?! And now a wife putting me in the same position. Was it right or was it wrong? I got a huge rush of adrenaline…. but should I let myself go with this? Maybe that was the cause of a later "panic attack" when I nearly ruined every-thing….. as I've done, I admit, a couple more times.

That first evening and night-time were wonderful and there was nothing in my head that thought this would lead to dressing in the clothes I wear happily now, each week.

After I had the panic of thinking I would get dependant on things like this, there was the time, the next day I think it was, that I came out of the shower, stark naked with all the lipstick removed and she comes out with these words about hair…. about knowing that hair was my "thing" and how much she knew I loved it…… It's true, it's definitely my fetish and I'm happy to admit it……… But then she suggests that I have my hair set…… in rollers! She's sitting there with her own hair all red with beautiful highlights…… and she's taunting me — almost daring me — to let her set my hair on rollers.

Sweet dreams are made of this…… Who am I to disagree (courtesy Annie Lennox)

So I agreed…… And so she did. She actually started putting rollers in my hair. Once begun, there was no turning back…… No chance for another panic attack. And my cock got bigger and harder…… And, I recall, we had sex very soon after with me with my hair in rollers! Don't tell everyone, I thought. This has to stay a secret! Seriously, I was then in a position that she was in control……And I really didn't object.

I liked it when she unrolled the hair and started styling it. I wanted her to back-comb it. There was a girl's style in there somewhere…… I wanted her to let it out. And she did.

Could I be thinking that? Well, I was! Looking back, I could have stopped at any time. She wouldn't have forced me. I was a willing participant. I blessed the closeness we were sharing. With her standing close behind me. Her pussy only inches away. I longed to lick her again and get my tongue inside her…… and to work with the "fucker" we share.

The dildo is now, but wasn't then, an important part of our love-making. I enjoyed giving it to her then…… occasionally. And I enjoy it more now it's a part of both our boy-girl and girl-girl love-making. I can fuck her with it when I am no longer rampant myself, and I can fuck her with it as a girl might occasionally do with a female lover.

The ideas for new things to try always seem to have come from her….. Like when she suggested that I might go and buy myself some knickers for my own use…… What a brilliant thought that was. Little did I know that she would follow me to the M&S store just to play the voyeur! And the cosmetics counter at the department store…… Those were things I half dreaded before I went out and did them! How could I, an ordinary guy, go into a cosmetics place and have some things tried out on my own face? Well, I didn't think I could, but I did. And the salesgirl was the most charming and helpful and sensitive person I could ever have wished.

Like the lady in M&S. Maybe she had people go in with my sort of requests regularly. How am I too know? All I know that was 100% my first time! I even went back to her and bought a lycra body-shaper. Wonderful! I couldn't have gone back there if she had made me feel as embarrassed as I was when I started. No, she just made me feel at ease as I looked through everything on sale. First, the underwear, then other things…… There was a moment when I might have rushed out of the shop without buying, scared of "looks" from all around. But no, it was her kindness that kept me in there and made me buy what I wanted.

…………And what my wife wanted me to buy!

I can't believe it was only a week later that the whole "go to the salon" thing happened. We had enjoyed some stunning sexing the days between. We had been fucking like little rabbits, whenever we could……… and wherever we could. I especially enjoyed the time on the stairs when we just couldn't wait to get upstairs! I tripped in my satin dressing gown and brought her down on top of me, as I recall. I just had to get at her pussy. There and then!

Was any of this down to the clothes and the lipstick and the hair…… Of course, it was!.

I genuinely feel that Zoe had, by this time, only a week later, taken on some of my fetish- and developed one of her own…… having me dressed and making love with her as a girl.

She has admitted this now…… it was as early as that! Funny, I'd never taken her for a girl with bi-tendency.

Perhaps she isn't. Well, she's no lesbian, that's clear. Perhaps, she's just a very sexy lady. Perhaps I'm just a very sexy guy. What's certain is that I am still free of any homosexual inclination. Naturally, with all we've done, there must be suspicion that this is my true persona…… Well, I wondered myself, but as much as I get into a girl's identity, from time-to-time……as I do every weekend now……I have never dreamt of involvement with another guy. No, ……Another girl…. for sure! I'm proud of my lesbian leanings.

Zoe has reached the point in her story where I agreed to go to her salon and have my hair done. What a step that was! I didn't feel able to go out fully dressed as a girl, I can remember well. The fear of the embarrassment of meeting people I knew was to great. Knowing my luck, it would have been a certainty… and what would I have said? Out in the real world… No Sireee… this was fantasy! It was bad enough being at home all dressed up in my lingerie with my make-up done and my hair all set……… What would I do if the door bell rang? HIDE!!! So, going out was a real test.

Booking the appointment was a first challenge. I know that she's known in the salon as Kerry. She made sure that I didn't talk to her…… She had other girls answer the salon's phone for the whole week. She even pressed me to call when I had left it three days! Emma was the girl I spoke to. She's a honey! I nearly fell in love all over again when I met her for the first time.

"Kerry" made it easier for me. That morning. She purposely chose and left out clothes that were a-sexual. Plain (yellow) trousers…. well, ok, it was summer, and a shirt……albeit a slightly girly one. She said it was up to me to choose if I were to wear a bra…… Of course, I should wear knickers…and I did. But the bra? I agonized about that. Going out for the first time…… Bravery took over and I did wear it……which pleased her no end, as she told me later before giving me the most ecstatic blow-job she ever had done.

It was the shoes that were the give-away……… Those strappy, slightly-heeled sandals were a delight and, for some strange reason didn't make me hesitate for one minute. On went the stockings and on went the shoes…… However awkward they tended to make me walk…… (and Kerry told me how to walk better when she next saw me…… apparently, she said, I had looked like Julia Roberts going stalking a client in "Pretty Woman"!!

I took that as a compliment!!!

Before I knew it, I was in the car, driving to the salon and parking across the street. What must I have looked like??!! A guy in a girl's outfit, going to get his hair done!

Which is what I was……

That was the day that I guess I felt this was going to be alright. I took myself there. I went in and said who I was. I was greeted by Emma who I had spoken to on the phone and, eventually, I sat with her discussing what I had in mind for my hair colour! Just like anyone who went there. Just like any woman who went there. Sitting there in my yellow trousers and shirt, my bra and knickers and my stockings and strappy shoes. Emma made me feel totally at home. She took me away and spent half an hour doing my colour. It was longer before I even saw "Kerry", though of course, she had seen me.

The colour was a delight. The cutting was precise but a simple trim. The look in Kerry's eyes as she did it, though, was very seductive. She was sending messages about that evening to me that I could not mistake! The styling, with rollers, was a dream. And the dressing, with the back-combing, was beautiful. I felt totally spoiled! As I left, I joked that I'd never spent so much on my hair…… Little did I know what hairdressing bills would become over the months after that!

I left the salon with not a care in the world about what passers-by might be thinking about me. They probably didn't even notice! I was still a guy in girls' clothes but somehow, I thought, it really doesn't matter. So what if I'm a guy who wants to dress this way?

Homeward, driving the short distance, I guess I got some sideways looks at traffic lights. Again, so what?! I resisted the temptation to blow a kiss in the wrong direction at one stop. The guy concerned would have been stunned!

When I reached home, I scurried inside the house. I had read some stories about neighbours who come calling when they see someone "different" arriving home.

Thankfully, all our neighbours works away from home. I'm the only one with a home office ……… and the only one who cross-dresses!

Everything had to be ready. Martinis and a subtly-placed fucker beside the bed. Then, I got myself ready……… Fragrance applied to my neck and chest……… and along my bikini line. I did my basic make-up. I thought Kerry could finish the job with a little more glamour later. Wearing only the satin dressing gown, I had some trouble with a hard-on and occasional wetness on my thighs. This proved too much temptation so I had a gentle wank as I luxuriated in the dream of being a girl waiting for her girlfriend to arrive home. OK, if that's being a bit too honest, so be it. I felt nothing of my maleness apart from the cock in my hands. I felt I was a woman with a cock. I dreamed of staying this way. I was glad I was booked to go back to the salon, same time, same requirements, next week.

My hair, needless to say, was done to perfection! Time for underwear…… Use your imagination! The bra and knickers and the camisole from M&S. The stockings and suspenders from Kerry's drawer. Then, time for the shoes!

I tottered downstairs in my heels and made the supper and lounged around before checking on my underwear. My cock was now quiet inside the knickers, seeping cum-juice gently. Ooooohhhhh! Just the recollection……!!!!

By the time Zoe got home, I had done the house-keeping thing and made everything right for a night of sex and romance.

As I remember it, she spent a little while telling me how wonderful I looked and how fantastic it had been to have me in the salon, before she disappeared upstairs to get herself ready too. I wondered why she wore a headscarf…… something I'd never seen her wear before.

When she returned, I felt myself nearly cum in my knickers, so gorgeous did she look. Any guy like me would pay a fortune to see his wife look quite so stunning.

She came down the stairs looking like a dream. She had the most feminine dress imaginable — something she had bought and kept secret. It was palest lilac with lace and a very tight, corseted waist. It was quite short, reaching the knee but allowing lots of leg to be seen. No doubt there were stockings and suspenders under there. Her tits stood proud and partly-revealed. She stood on 3-inch heeled LK Bennett floral pumps.

Her make-up was stunning……… if a little threatening, it was so glamorous. Her eyes flashed with bright eyeshadow, mascara and liner. Her complexion looked faultless. Her lips were wild crimson. Her smile was devilish.

Her hair…… now I realized why the headscarf………her hair was dressed high and what she had hidden was the change to the colour of her highlights. previously blonde…… (and much envied by me in recent days), they were like tiger-stripes of pure white.

No doubt, she would tone them down again before work on Monday, but for now they shouted "Fuck You, Fuck Me!".

Let me allow her to take up the story where she left off. ……………………… LOL, Annie.

**************

That evening, one to remember for ever, was set off as soon as we kissed at the foot of the stairs. I was holding my husband in his dressing gown and underwear, ready to complete the image he needed to have made for him. Our eyes met and we paused before the first kiss. I had practised the best possible seductive 'look' and used it to perfection. He/she was putty in my hands. This would take all night!

But I wanted a fuck there and then. I wanted to fuck this guy who I had married and who stood before me in his sexy underwear and dressing gown with his face barely made-up and his hair looking perfect. I wanted to eat his pussy!

I released him from my embrace and slipped down to the floor facing him. I slipped my hand inside his dressing gown and easily found his knickers which were bulging with cock. It screamed to be eaten! I took it out without difficulty and admired the wetness that surrounded the head. Another bead of pre-cum appeared at the tip and I closed my mouth around it, drinking the taste with joy.

He stroked my head with the satin of his dressing gown, careful not to disturb my hairstyle. My girlfriend? Not yet… This was my husband in girls' clothes. If this was the first week, let it be the first of many!

It was impossible to speak with my mouth full of cock. He seemed not to want to talk either, so we went on as if by sixth sense, knowing what eachother wanted next. He shuddered as he nearly shot into my mouth but managed to resist. Enough……! I stood again and gave him the taste of his own pre-cum in a long delicious wet kiss. My indelible lipstick remained, crimson red. His, by now was spread across my own mouth and his cheeks….. He would have to attend to that soon.

We took the stairs to the landing, leaving his dressing gown at the foot of the climb. We reached the top where he silently slipped his hands under my skirt and found the corset barring his way to my pussy. Silly woman! I thought to myself. But no…… The struggle to unbutton the crotch was a way to make him all the more excited. My pussy would be all the wetter for the time it took him to get inside. Bliss!!!!

His mouth buried between my thighs and the suspenders and stockings he found there. Plenty of time… no need to rush. But soon enough, his fingers parted the labia and revealed my love-nest. His lipstick-smeared lips were soon closed over the wet opening and he found my clitoris with his tongue. "Ohhhhhh……Oooooh………Aaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!"

Before it seemed a moment had passed, but in truth it was nearly an hour, I felt myself cum with an intensity that was unrepeatable.

Still, no words had been spoken.

"Youuuuuuu beauty!!!", was all he said!

My thoughts ran riot. This was heaven. My ecstasy would be repaid. I lay there in the after-glow of a wonderful orgasm. We needed to share something else.

"Let's have those Martinis before they get warm, honey." I purred

And so we did. Martini always made his face flush a little which, with make-up, made his skin almost glow. I stroked his/her cheek and admired the way he had got the basics of his cosmetics just right. My job was to build on that and make him more for tonight and for the weekend. Friday night……… All night! That was my plan!

We sat on the bed and lazily drank our drinks with a view to a lazy supper and an evening of pure delight. Friday nights would be like this in future if I had my way!

And we talked. About the day. And about the salon visit.

"Emma was so kind to me, I was really stunned by the way she looked after me and told me what she could do and how, and asked me what I would like most of all and…… then she did it!!! Has she worked for very long at the salon? Is she a real friend of yours? What did she say after I'd left/ What did she say before I got there??? Do you fancy her…….?? 'Cos I'd understand if you did…. I mean, I fancy her, that's for sure. She's delightful. I'll bet she's good in the sack!"

I said we talked. I meant he/she talked and I listened……..!

It was evident that he/she was very impressed!

"But, oh… then it was your turn, my honey and I loved every minute of being there with you, doing my hair and being so skilful with the way you designed the style and put it into place and I love the result…. I hope you do and I hope you'll do it again for me next week….and thank you sooooo much….!!

OK, so she/he was delighted with me too………

No "how was the rest of your day?" … yet. I was getting a bit miffed…… this was all "me", "me", "me"…… really it was…….. Then, I thought…. how girly is that?!

Woah! This is suddenly deeply psychological stuff……. I mean, had the experience at the salon had more than just an effect in his/her looks? Couldn't possibly…. could it? Looking back, I guess it may just have done. I had to respond like another girl might do and I probably wasn't prepare for that there and then.

Then my "Annie" asked… "And how did you get today?"

"Very well thank you,….." I began. "It was an ordinary day — well, busy as Fridays are, until I had a special client arrive — a new one, someone I'd never looked after before. It was quite exciting really because, until he arrived, I didn't know exactly what he wanted to have done." The 'third person' description seemed to fit ok, so I continued……

"Yes, exciting's the right word, because he had booked only a couple of days ago and he had asked for me in particular….. and more intriguing, he had asked for a 'shampoo and set' which is unusual to say the least. And when Emma asked him if he meant a cut and blow dry, he said absolutely not. He wanted his hair set on rollers. So she took that in her stride and asked him if there was anything else he wanted, like a colour?? And do you know what?…… He said he'd talk about that when he came in…… so, he was clearly up for that too. So Emma told him to come early and spend time talking with her as she'd be the one to do the colour if he decided to have one. And, by that time, she was really intrigued and hoping he would say yes!"

"Goodness, would you expect him to be gay or something?" Annie asked, keeping up the role play. "Tell me some more about today then."

"No, darling, we have quite a few guys with 'special requests' and I'd say that most of them are certainly straight. There are a lot of guys out there who like to explore hair and beauty without being homosexuals. These guys just like the feeling they get, maybe dressed as well, but they couldn't dream of dating another guy." All of which was true. "I kind of find that attractive." Which was also true. A lot of 'us' girls do." Which is also true! "Some look like guys in skirts, but others can look quite believable." Which, strangely enough, is also true.

"So what did he look like, this guy, when he arrived…..?" Annie inquired. "…. and how was he dressed?"

"Well, he was brave to go out, I guess, looking as he did…….. I mean, he could have been a guy or a girl when he arrived but most people would have guessed. His clothes were his-and-hers really. I've got lots like then, but the real give-away was the shoes. He'd had the courage to wear stockings and lovely strappy shoes with low heels. No doubt about those. Very sexy."

"And he just strolled into the salon?" He/she said with an incredulous tone. "Surely not, in the middle of the day?!"

"You'd better believe it, honey. Bold as brass, he… er, she… well, whatever… crossed the road from the car park and came in directly. Emma found out, in talking, that this was the part that made him/her feel confident enough to go OUT at the end of the session in the salon. He nearly cried-off and went home without coming in."

"Brave guy!" Annie said breathlessly. Her eyes looked like a tear was welling-up inside and he/she was clearly touched by the moment.

"I really admired him, darling Annie, because he wasn't at all confident but yet he went through with the whole 'getting out of the car and crossing the street' bit… and coming into the salon to meet complete strangers. That takes guts. He'll make a truly gutsy lady if he ever wants to."

"I can just imagine.", he said, again almost in a whisper.

"It seemed to me he had a great time with Emma. She really spent time talking with him about hair colours and how they work and how long each would last on the hair…. and asking him how long he fancied a colour lasting…. assuming that he would choose to go through with a colour treatment. And he did! Brave boy! Emma told me after he left that she absolutely thought he was a doll!"

"And how was it for him? Did he say anything to you while you were working on his style?" This was 'girl talk'. He/she was into character 100% of the way. "Did anyone make fun behind his back?"

"No, nobody made fun of him. And as far as what he said, he talked only when I put questions to him. It seemed he was a bit overwhelmed y the whole experience but he did say how much he enjoyed the way we all treated him just as we would any client. He like it so much he's coming back next week. I wonder what we'll get to do then. Even if it's just the same all over again — a colour and roller set, we'll be delighted!"

"I'm sure he'll be back if you looked after him so well."

**************

Sex that night brought a new situation — a problem and, also, an unexpected opportunity.

Foreplay, something that we both love and enjoy extremely — so much so, it often is enough to satisfy us — went on as usual. Seductive talk. Finger-light touching. Lingering kisses lips-to-lips. Slow unbuttoning of clothing. Tweaking of nipples once revealed. Occasional clawing with long fingernails. Tongues exploring unusual corners — napes of necks, eyelids, fingers, tummy-buttons, nipples (both his and mine)….. all came in for treatment.

Long before we explored eachothers' cock and pussy.

It was one of those times when we both were very excited… maybe too excited… and he "lost it". His hard-on subsided and he was very embarrassed — it didn't matter to me and I hope I made that very clear. We could carry on with ease. There are lots of things a couple can do without a hard cock….. but this was different. He didn't want to use the dildo for some reason. Maybe it was because he was clad in his beautiful underwear and still wearing some make-up. His hair was ruffled but still very girly…….. As I remember thinking to myself…. "what the hell? there are lots of things two girls can do without a cock that hard enough for a fuck!"

And that made me think. There are things girls do that guys don't and maybe this was a chance for him to learn something new.

"Darling, you mustn't feel bad about that. Just cuddle me and we'll take it easy for a while. You know, there are many times when I don't cum during sex but that's because girls feel different about it. I can have the most wonderful time without ever cumming…. without ever having you inside me. I hope you can tell from the way I am. Equally well, and this is no secret between two girls, there are time when you want your partner to fell that he or she has given you so much that you have to cum. You just have to. But sometimes, you don't need to. But you have to show that you've have a special time…….. so you fake it."

"What d'ya mean…. Have you faked it for me many times?", he said incredulously.

"Well, just a few times…. and I love the reaction it gets in you. I'm perfectly happy and I want you to be, so I fake it… just very occasionally." I said, as honestly as I could.

"You mean, it's that indistinguishable?"

"Well, it seems to be……….. And you could do it too, I'm sure."

"Me?…….. h,h,h, how??!!", he stuttered……..

"Let me show you… it's dead easy if you know how. Remember the film that Meg Ryan did where she was in a diner and just put on a show all by herself, sitting over a coffee with this guy…."

He remembered. It was one of the top 100 movies' best moments.

"How could a guy do that?", he said, disbelievingly.

"Let me show you……. if you're prepared to try it next…. for me, for your Zoe!" I teased him.

There was a moment when it seemed Annie would refuse the whole idea. After all, not many men admit that their women fake orgasms and he was clearly one that had not made the connection in the past when I had seemingly been satisfied when the sex had been at best 'ordinary', or 'one-of-those-days' when I'd never cum no-matter-what (which we all have), or when he had been so clearly ready to cum he was unlikely to stop.

Recognizing this, I realized there was no point in confronting it and wanted to avoid suggesting this was 'ED' on his part. So, I switched from reassurance to 'learn-how-to-be-a-girl' mode. But everything I said was whispered and accompanied by a fingertouch over the satin of his underwear.

"There are times when we two girls are making love and I'll be going quicker than you and I'll be getting near to cumming. …………. I paused and smiled………… When that happens, and when you think I'll be more excited……… if we can cum together, …it's then that you should do this." I told him/her, almost in 'third year at school sex lesson' tones.

"You should let your mind wander….. Shut out thoughts of anything outside what we're doing. Imagine you're the most beautiful girl you ever saw. Imagine you had her gorgeous long auburn hair and wild green eyes and soft skin. Imagine the way you're dressed now, ready for sex…. and to be loved. Slip your fingers into your mouth and wet them wonderfully, tracing the line of your lips in the creamy lipstick you've found there, before we begin to kiss. Then, when I take you in my arms, you slip your fingers into my pussy and find me really wet already. So, then, you slip your fingers into your own love nest. Find the tip of your cock and the foreskin that surrounds it. Slide your finger inside the skin that's just your pussy's labia… very lightly indeed, you stroke the tip of your cock. OK, so it's not rock hard yet…. so that helps…….. caress your labia, darling….. tease then with a crimson-lacquered fingernail….. stroke them with the tips of a finger."

His cock was rising again as I talked. This was a beautiful experience in the making. But it didn't get hard. It was beautiful… just the way I was talking did that. He had closed his eyes. He was doing as I was suggesting. His hands were gently working away on his cock and it was soaked with pre-cum juices. I had to work hard to resist giving him a blow-job there and then!

"Then, leave the tip and run your fingers down the sides to find the base of your cock — you'll find there's a bone in your pelvis that's just like where my clitoris is…… start to rub there hard… really give yourself a wake-up….. Imagine you have a girls' clitoris yourself….. Really throw your mind into it……… Use those fingernails on a nipple now…. really dig in there, make it zing…."

His breathing increased in pace and was becoming quite shallow, but his cock remained semi-hard, soaked as it was, but nothing he could penetrate my pussy with.

"Now you're really, nearly there…… Let yourself go………. It's in your head……… It's in your clitoris……. It's in those lips…….. Taste your own lipstick…….. Kiss your self…… Now give me a Meg Ryan performance…….. It's for me to see you cum………. Cum…. NOW! Cum my wonderful bitch…….. Cum, NOW!"

And within moments, he/she did! Her head threw backwards and she moaned out loud…… Her hand rose to run her fingers through her heavily curled and lacquered hair. She did it! What a performance! It made me as wet as I could have been……… My hand slipped between my own thighs and I was on the way to cumming almost immediately. As "she" rested gently after "cumming". I felt a wave of exquisite pleasure run through my entire body… Wowwwwwww!!!

And that was the Friday night of our first weekend that had begun in the salon…..

**********

Saturday began lazily with his/her dressing after showering. The first rinsing of the hair flooded the shower with colour and caused a drama queen moment as he/she feared it would all be lost. ……No fear. Unlike the previous week when the silver masque on the auburn had disappeared, the two-tone temporary rinses just faded a little on the first wash.

It soon became clear to me that the time at home couldn't be taken up with sex all day, every day, for three days a week! Much as I should have loved it, there was no chance of sustaining the spontaneity and the passion we were enjoying! And yet, he/she couldn't really go out much; he/she wasn't either boy or girl……. he was still a guy in a frock! Looking good, but not good enough!

This was a conundrum that I hadn't foreseen! A pleasant one… but……… What to do now???

I had to involve him/her in the thought process.

After we had breakfasted and read the papers, both of us lounging around in light shirts and chinos, we sat together over a coffee in the kitchen. As we talked I was transfixed by the outline of the bra that showed beneath the shirt he was wearing.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" I asked, not-at-all tentatively. It was a statement of fact not a question. "Rhetoric, that's called, isn't it?"

He/she mused over what to say for a moment and then he voiced exactly what I had been thinking, as he said: "Well, it's just wonderful. It really is. I'm actually feeling myself during the weekdays and like somebody completely different once Friday comes around. I hope you've seen a change in me……….?"

"Well, definitely I have. You're a more confident guy when you're a guy…… and you're making a honey of a girlfriend when I need one! I just love you both!" I said what I was feeling. "You're a very believable girl (I lied, that was going too far, just yet!) …… when we're here together and when we're making love. You pass the test for a very very empathetic lesbian lover. You really do. If dykes were all like you, there'd be no heterosexual women left!!!"

"That's very kind of you to say….. but I really know that I'm just a guy in a bra and undies and a dress now…….. I mean, I like the look of what I see in the mirror but….. Convincing, I ain't!"

"Nonsense…. " I started to argue…..

"…no.no, hear me out…… I don't look like a girl I would fancy as a guy would…… and it's ok really 'cos I don't want to attract any guys…. not at all………. But I'd like to get better at looking more like a real girl…… so your girlfriend is a 'head-turner' the way you are, darling….."

"Well, then, if you won't accept my compliments….. " I retorted….

"…no, no, no! You don't understand. When we are two girls, I want us to be stunners……. You must tell me what more I have to do to be convincing to just you… never mind anyone else. Just you. You're the only one that matters, lover!"

Where to begin?????

This was time for honesty but honesty can be hurtful………..

I thought carefully — and said only some of this: "We have to go shopping for a lot of clothes for "her". For Annie. She needs to have a separate dressing room, wardrobe and vanity unit for her girly days. We have to stock the wardrobe with lingerie, with stockings and shoes. We need blouses - so she will leave mine alone!. We need skirts - so she will leave mine alone!We had to use less make-up, not more….. we had to make everyday cosmetics what we use, not glamorous ones. Keeping the others for special occasions only. Then we had to be more moderate with his hair…. which may mean permanent colour, I thought…. but ease-up on the wild temporary rinses! More importantly, there was his deportment — he had to learn to walk as a woman…… and that would take time! And then, there was his voice. Would he see reason in taking lessons? Girls talk so differently to guys…… Oh! So much!

"Darling, I love the way you are….. Really I do. And you must realize that this is very early days. You've been dressing for just two or three weeks. You have to be patient……. I guess you have to think how you want it to be when we reach what I will call "steady state"……. Where we are "going steady" as boy/girl and as girl/girl….. Because that's the way I hope we can reach…..

"Well, that's what I've grown into hoping for…….. ", he said quietly. "…. if that's ok?"

"Of course, it's more than ok…. it's wonderful to hear you say that. I'm going to help you all I can — this is MY idea, remember!"

Chapter 11 will follow and move the story on from here……… Annie, Andy and I knew by this stage where we hoped to go…………… and how far………where we differed was perhaps how fast. Only time would tell when more steps would be taken. Look forward to news of "Three Months After"

LOL Andy's Wife, ( Kerry at the salon, Zoe at home ).

Chapter 10 finished with me, Zoe, more in love than ever with my man, "Annie" in his guise as a girl…… weekends only, and even more than before, weekdays and workdays, as the guy I married. After that first wonderful weekend following a salon visit, there was little doubt he would call at the salon, as arranged, for his appointment the next Friday. I spent all week looking forward to it. Meanwhile, our love-making, on weekdays, was on a new level!

A Wife's Indulgence
From Zoe, a friend of WannabeGinger’s
(Chapter 11)

We were sat in front of the television, having finished a TV supper. Andy was in full bloke mode — beer open beside him, pasta bowl scraped clean! He hadn’t shaved today which made me think….. he needed to keep clean shaven for the weekends. I was a little irritated perhaps, so I opened my conversation with a question, to lead him to where I wanted him to go.

"It's Wednesday evening, honey. Have you thought about your salon visit this week?" I enquired. "You have to have some ideas for your stylist and your colourist, you know."

He mused for a while, his thoughts wandering. I could almost hear him thinking about the previous weekend and how it had begun. The colours in his hair were more muted now, having been washed a couple of times. The colours were still noticeable but nothing as striking as when I'd seen him leave the salon on Friday. He hadn't set his hair since Sunday, so it was simply left in a rough "he/she" shaggy style. He hadn't worn make-up since Sunday either. Forbidden in the way were to spend our lives. Boy in the week; girl at the weekend; that was his….. er, her!

"Oh, yes, I've been thinking long and hard about that!", he exclaimed.

"Well, tell me all about your thoughts.", I insisted but…..

"Oh, no! I have to tell my stylist and colourist when I see them!", he interrupted.

Oh…. OK, quite right, I thought…….. if he's playing this role for real, that's the way it should be. I was his stylist but I wouldn't know what he wanted until he came into the salon. Nor would I know what he would be asking of Emma for the colouring.

"Fair enough, you're right, of course.", I agreed…….. cursing!!!

"You know, this whole way of going about things has changed me a lot, in a very short time.", he said, clearly priming himself to "talk" about his dressing.

"When I'm out during the week, perhaps down at the shops or walking the streets, I'm noticing the ways that girls dress and present themselves in ways that I'd never noticed before. Instead of having an "ogle" and dreaming of giving them a shag — which is what guys do, isn't it? — I find myself thinking about the way they've created an overall look and how their clothes and hair and make-up all fit together….. and I find myself wondering how it all might look on me!"

"Well, I make no secret of looking at guys and imagining how they would make in a fuck…… natural, isn't it? But then again, I do look at girls the way you do too….

I paused.

It's part of my job, looking at other women……. assessing how they look, how they could improve things… especially their hair, which is something I can influence and change…….", I went on……

"…. There isn't a woman on this planet whose hair I couldn't change for the better…….. in fact, you're a good example…. you just let me do my stuff and … voila!…. your hair is stunning compared to how it was."

"So we both spend our lives looking at other women, then!", he said triumphantly.

"But you go on to think how you might look….?, I invited him to elaborate.

"Oh, yes, now I do… that's what's changed the most. I look at their hair, their make-up - if I'm close enough — and I look at their clothes. I can't get enough of it! I spin stories in my mind about the way I'd look with 'this' hairstyle, or 'that' hair colour, or 'this mascara' or 'that lipstick'! And then, there's the clothes… where I have less experience, of course, and less imagination. Of course, if I see a right tart tripping down the street in four inch heels and a peroxide beehive, well, THEN, I can imagine myself….!"

"You're becoming quite a tart at heart, aren't you?!", I teased him/her. "Just be careful, because girls get reputations! I hadn't thought of you as a tart, really I hadn't, but maybe we can have sex with you really going for the character someday!"

The Julia Roberts character in Pretty Woman came to mind again!

"Well, honey, I'll be whatever you want me to be!", he drawled in a high class hooker's kind of drawl.
"You just get thinking about what you want at the salon this week…… that's for the future, maybe. This week, you have to come in with an idea…. something we can work with, Emma and me." I left him in no doubt.
Sex that night was brilliant. What was in his mind, I can't be sure, but we played for hours and finally laid back……. literally, "shagged out".

Wonderful!.

************

Friday came around and I reminded him of our conversation before I left for the salon. He assured me that he had a really different new look in mind that could be fun for "his stylist and his colourist" to work on.

I left him still as a guy, in EVERY respect, as he lay on the bed, naked and gently wanking as he said "Bye, honey. Look forward to seeing all of you later!".

As I drove to the salon, I was warm and wet between my thighs, thinking of his arrival later!
He confessed to me later that night that he had cum almost the minute I had left. He was yearning for me to see him at the salon because he was going to try a full-on girly outfit, no unisex clothes this time, for his visit.

He confessed also that he was only nervous about one thing. Not being "sussed" as a guy by people in the street, no; just the possible embarrassment of getting a hard-on beneath a dress. Having it show. So, he spent the morning experimenting with ways to hold his cock out of the way. Major problem! He dressed in bra, suspenders, stockings and panties. His cock got hard. Instantly.

He had tried tape on his cock……… but the brain waves and local humidity "down there" rendered that useless. He had tried the body shaper, but that would prevent him having a pee when he wanted. So, he tried almost every pair of my knickers — high-legs, frenchies, every kind — but none had contained him. No good.

So, he wanked himself again, to reduce the likelihood of embarrassment, and tied a thin satin cord around the head of his cock, and passed both lengths through his crotch. He reached around his back and pulled the cords up between his buttocks and over his hip bones, bringing them forward to tie in front of his - now empty - pubic hair. It worked well……… UNTIL, he confessed, his cock started to rise for a third time! He had tied the cord quite tight at the start…. so, by the time he was even only "half hard", he was imprisoned! By his own hand! His cock, therefore, just went on growing. And he couldn't wank another time…… He literally could not cum… if he tried………!

"Whatever did you do then?!" I cried when he was telling me all of this, late in the night. The thought of injury was all-pervading. He could have lost his cock in a crescendo of an aneurysm if he wasn't careful.

"A cold bath!" That was all he could think of…. and just as well he did. It had the desired effect. The hard-on subsided and his cock was eventually freed. A lesson learnt!

"DON'T you ever do that again!" I chastised him…… "I want that cock for myself!"

***********

That was all later when he told me — after the salon visit.

***********

He had, indeed, spent a lot of time on his dressing before setting off for the salon. He wore the same shoes and stockings as the previous week but above these, he/she wore a wonderfully feminine blouse, in a white/pink floral pattern, and a lovely summer skirt that flared from the waist. Indeed, so much so, it accentuated his/her waist beautifully. It moved with his/her body as she crossed the street from the car park. Well, I know… because I was looking out for her to arrive!
She wore little make-up… just some foundation, mascara, eyeshadow and lipstick.

She had washed her hair, so the last vestiges of the temporary colour rinses was gone, but she had volumized it well with mousse and strong back-brushing.

She looked superb. OK, the walk across the street was definitely male…. (I'd have to work on that!)… but the overall impression was a guy doing a very good job of being a girl!

"Take me as you find me!", he/she said when Emma greeted her/him at the door saying "Wow, you look perfect today!" And she was right. My tutoring was paying off! We had spent much of last weekend with him learning from me many of the subtleties of "being a girl" "I enjoy being a girl!!" (Cue Doris Day!)

The salon visit went much the same way as the first. I avoided contact with “Annie”, apart from a wave across the salon and a "Hi, Annie!" "Hi, Kerry!" greeting. It was all I could do not to go over and ear-wig on the conversation about his/her preference for colour this week.

I looked across at her, my husband, sitting in the chair with Emma beside her, talking over the colour charts and the swatches of hair in the books they were studying. Which colour, or colours, would he/she choose? The hair was still quite short, by girly standards, so the choice of colour would be important for the way I would be styling it in an hour or so…….

"Hey, daydream!…." said the client I was working on. I was clearly miles away in my thoughts……. "I'm SO sorry!", I apologized. "Something I have to do this evening and I just forgot where I was for a second! Do please forgive me!"

"No worry….", she said. "…. I thought he was rather special too!" Clearly, she'd seen the object of my gaze. "What tremendous self confidence that guy must have.."

She went on. "….. Has he been coming here long?"

There was no way I could avoid the question. She was wanting information!

"Oh, the guy…. Annie he's called when he’s here. No, he's only just started with us but we hope he'll become a long-term client, just like you. It takes time to know what a client wants to have done with her hair and then to advise her the best way to achieve the look she wants. We have two or three guys who come to us for service and he's just the next one. It's quite flattering that they'll trust us, don't you think?" My answer was enough, I thought.
"Well, I'd like to meet a guy like that — it would be fun hearing all about him….. or her, should I say?"

He's mine! You get no introductions from me, lady! I thought.

"Well, he's quite a private individual — at least he seemed so when I cut and set his hair last week. Now, ……….what shall we do for you today? An updo I think you said last week, didn't you? Are you going out anywhere special?….."

*************

Annie and Emma finished their talk quite quickly, which must have meant that he/she had come in with ideas to work on. I saw them flip through several colour charts. It would remain to be seen what would be the result.

Emma signed across the salon to indicate that she would be taking around 30 minutes so that meant there would be no permanent colour for Ginger this week.

His mousey brown, typically English, shade was a fair base for many colours, except blonde of course. I found myself wondering if he would look good as a blonde. Maybe one day……

*************

He came over from the colouring area with his hair wrapped so I couldn't tell what colour he was…….. Emma accompanied him. All was revealed after he sat down in my chair facing the mirror.
Surprise, surprise!

Though darker because it was wet, there was no doubt that Emma had given him the colour he had asked for which must have been my own shade of auburn! If I had felt it was unacceptable, I could have made them change it there and then but I guess I took it as a compliment. It looked fabulous really. No highlight, just the lovely warm base shade.

"Semi-permanent this time.", said Emma. "It will last for 6-8 washes and you'll have the colour for longer. That will help you get used to the change and maybe prepare for something more long-lasting next time. Happy?"

"You must be right, Emma.", he said, smiling broadly. "Now what can you do to make the most of that, Kerry?", he asked of me.

My heart skipped a beat. His/her hair wasn't nearly as long as my own but it made me think that one day, just one day in the future, we would have matching styles and colours. I really fancied that idea. I had only just gone for a perfect cut bob style that hung to my chin length. That meant I had to focus on the way to cut his hair so that it would gr ow quickest into the style for her that I currently wore. That back and sides had to grow faster. The crown was near enough long enough and would grow with time.

"It'll take time, but you'll have to be patient, so I will cut only the slightest amount today, just to even up the ends and encourage it to grow. It can be quite feminine if you're convinced that's the way you want to go." I looked at him — her — as if the question was pointless to ask…… she was sitting before me. He would be waiting at home!

"Oh, I've got all the time in the world.", he enthused. So we set to work and, after rollers and drying with a loving comb-out and back-combing, within an hour, Annie was ready to leave the salon. He/she gave me and Emma a peck on the cheek after making a booking for another appointment the following week. Friday again. Same time? Yes. Same services? Probably. Beautiful. He was hooked!

After the door closed and we watched him cross the street for the car park, Emma said something strange. "You know, it's almost like you two have known eachother before. I can't say why but it seems dead obvious to me. I think if either of us asked him for a date, he'd have your number long before mine. Am I wrong?" She looked at me quizzically.

"Can't think what you mean, honey.", I answered. "…. in fact, I think he's more attracted to you than me." Which I doubted, but it was clear there was an affinity between them. "Does it bother you that he's exploring his girly side? It doesn’t seem to, at all!" I asked.
"Not at all. I think that's something that guys should experience if they want to. It's quite clear that he's not gay at all. He hasn't given Huw a second glance and Huw's a very attractive guy — if you're a guy — I would guess.

"Oh, yes, I'm quite sure this fella's a hetero. He loves girls… maybe a bit too much!" I laughed and moved on to my next client. It was a busy day.

**************

Annie disappeared from view as he got in his car. His white/pink floral blouse was just right. His lovely summer skirt that flared from the waist swished as he swung his legs into the car. He checked his face in the car's rear-view mirror and refreshed his lipstick just like any girl might do. And he was off!

He went home via the shops in town and called in to M&S to buy a new nightie. He'd been talking about that and said only the previous evening that he might do this. He also said he hoped he might track down the helpful woman who had assisted him with his first purchases. But I didn't expect him to do that fully dressed (as he was when he arrived and when he left the salon).

*************

My day was busy but the time seemed to drag. Every client seemed to take for ever to finish and it was with a sense of relief that my 5pm cut and blow-dry arrived. If I could get this done fast, I would be home by six. The client was a guy of about 17. His hair was long and in poor condition so it needed at very professional cut and conditioning. As I took care of him, I found myself imagining how he would look with an updo. His features were quite effeminate and he would easily have made a passable girl. I decided to play a little before going home! The trim was complete.

"Have you always worn your hair nice and long?" I enquired.

"Since I was about 14, I have. It's only been cut occasionally since then, that's why it's quite so long. I like it this way." he answered in a quite matter-of-fact way.

"You could have a lot of fun with it, instead of the ponytail, if you wanted. Have you ever thought of doing more with it?" I asked, leading nowhere in particular.

"Well, it's funny you should….." he stopped, overtaken with second thoughts about what he was going to say.

"Funny? In what way?" I asked, as gently as I knew how.

Silence. He looked in the mirror.

Silence.

"It seems that you have… but don't worry if you don't want to talk about it." I said gently. "We have lots of guys come in for really quite experimental stuff."

Silence.

"Like what?", he said, tentatively.

"Well, like a guy today came in for a colour with Emma, over there, and then a set and styling with me." I said, in an equally matter-of-fact way.

It was true. I didn't mention that the guy, Andy, came dressedas Annie in some of my own clothes and wore some make-up and made a passable woman.

"Hmmmm…….", he was thoughtful before saying…….. "Maybe, one day…."

"Well, you think about it. Meanwhile, why don't I show you how your hair would look in a nice high updo…… nobody will see and you might get a feeling for it. It's quite long enough."

Without waiting for his reply, I started brushing his long hair quite vigorously, making the hair at the roots tight to his scalp and holding the length high upon his crown. There was a good deal of hair to work with now the conditioner had added volume. I pinned it hard to his scalp and then folded lengths out into individual curls that I pinned, one-by-one, against his head. I gradually built the petals out from the centre, leading to a very full profile that he could see developing in the mirror. It was quite a "seventies" look by the time I had finished.
If I got more clients like this I could start a separate salon for boy/girl clients!

I thought of Andy at home… Just wait until you have this length in your hair! Annie took over in my thoughts. I wanted to get home. I had teased this guy enough…. In fact, I think I made myself another client there and then! His hair had to be unpinned but he left with a high ponytail and I had little doubt that he would fall into the trap!

The hair in my hands had to be unpinned — sadly so because I had created something rather beautiful. Before returning the hair to a simple ponytail, I whispered "Don't try this at home!", knowing that there was no doubt, if I was a good judge of personality, that this guy would be working with the pins to make the same style as soon as he got home.

Good luck to him!

"You can always come back to us for help, you know!" I said, teasingly but meaning what I said!
"Thank you so much - I'll think about it lots!", he replied, and with that left the salon.

*****************

That was the second week of Annie's visits to my salon. The home-coming was tremendous with him dressed as her awaiting my return. She/he gathered me at the door and planted a long lingering, and very lipsticky, kiss on my mouth before twirling her skirt to show me how she was dressed.
This would be the pattern for the coming weeks.

Two Martinis poured and waiting. A new style of dressing each week as she/he went to the high street to pick something new to wear. That way, her wardrobe was built slowly but progressively, with a little advice from me from time-to-time.

There were gaps in her wardrobe that needed to be filled. Her shoe collection needed to be about ten times the size it was in those early days. Her underwear was perfectly sufficient, but she did buy new items occasionally when she saw some things that made her feel especially sexy. Notably, she bought some high definition, ultra-slinky support stockings that gave her legs a real sheen….. the week after she shaved her legs for the first time. (I so loved the feel of his legs through those ultra shiny stockings).

It was the fourth or fifth week that he/she indulged my wish that she had a manicure in the salon. (We do a while-you-wait service while clients are under the dryers). Thereafter, her nails were perfect red talons through the weekends and it was another "back to being a guy" thing to clear the polish from his nails on a Sunday night. It soon reached that stage where he would keep the polish on until the Monday morning!

By the sixth or seventh week, I noticed, he moved his appointment at the salon to earlier in the day. Instead of early afternoon, so having plenty of time in the morning to prepare, he moved to late morning appointments, so that he "could do other things in the afternoon". Like what? I pressed him for the details not long after.
"Well, I'm finding there's not enough time for shopping if I leave the salon around 4pm…… I know now why girls spend so long shopping! I want to look at more things and spend more time, maybe asking for help from the assistants."

He was fully into his role play now. He was not fazed by the thought that some people would still "clock" him as a guy in a dress. What the hell? Did he care? After only two months, no, he didn't! He wanted to look his best but if he was sussed and it gave someone else a problem, well, "Tough….. It's a free country and I'm not causing a breach of the peace!", he would say.
I loved him for it. I couldn't have imagined such eager participation……… and yet, the guy I married was still there……during the weekdays, HE was my man - and I loved him for that ………… still do!
Sex with him as a male was mixed; sometimes he was rampant and almost insatiable. Other times, he would lose his hard-on and still be embarrassed by that, fearing I would take it personally. Other times, the dildo, our "fucker" that we shared, was used to great effect whether or not he was hard enough.
He confessed to adoring the use of the fucker in a way that I hadn't appreciated — though I had loved it — where the head of the dildo was the last part to go in my pussy, meaning that his mouth could envelop it as it emerged, feeling like I had a cock of my own. As he parted my labia and licked my clittie, his mouth would surround a life-like shape of a cock……. So, in another way, we became a girl with extras, and a boy with extras! What a couple! What luck!

**************

My plan to live together as man-and-wife weekdays and wife-and-wife weekends was nearing conclusion, although I was sure there would be further developments.

My purpose in writing this autobiography started with a hope to encourage other wives with similar inclinations to my own to press on with a simple plan such as this. I was lucky. My husband became a willing and, then, active participant in bother the fantasies and the realities of becoming a girl for some time each week..

By the end of the third month of our "experiment", Ginger had a full (enough) wardrobe of female clothes. Enough for him to play his/her part in the washing and Ironing! He/she had a lovely collection of shoes which saved him stretching my own which are a size smaller. She/he had a wonderful array of lingerie and underwear.

We even, by then, had recalled the talk about the looks of a tart and had gone and bought him a really sexy outfit which I found and surprised him with. The piece de resistance was the Julia Roberts blonde hooker's wig that I bought to go with it. "Wow!" is all he said as I put it on his head. Blonde, heavy fringe and bangs over the cheeks, it shouted "Fuck me!". And I did… almost immediately! That wig was for the home only!

He was able to go out of the house, as she, fully dressed in a way I never expected he would, but it suited him. maybe I would have preferred to keep "her" as my own secret but, what the hell?, "Annie" was out there and I couldn't contain her!

Her visits to the salon were almost routine now……. After three months, of course, we knew exactly what this client wanted and we moved him/her progressively towards more and more sophisticated treatments. The manicures became mandatory. A full facial make-over was offered and accepted willingly on a few occasions — "big nights out"???… or rather occasional "big nights IN!"

But most of all, his hair became more and more the part that made his femininity convincing. I began to know that the woman who left the salon would be the woman that I would meet — and make love with — at home, every Friday.

The length of his hair improved with time, reaching the stage where, with an extra 3-or-so inches all over, he could have a bob-cut with a wedge shape that would gradually grow longer still; getting closer and closer to a likeness of my own hair. His/her rollers got larger and larger. The sleekness of the hair, (aided by an exceptional cut from me!) was crucial. Annie soon became able to shake the head from side-to-side and have the length swing in a most feminine way! He/she loved that when it was possible for the first time.

By month Four, Annie's hair was still being coloured semi-permanently and the style was getting longer. He/she liked the auburn colour that was tried out in week two or three. E mma spiced it up occasionally with a flash of colour painted on to the temples or across her fringe. Her favourite client never complained and was always the first to suggest new touches. He/she was revelling in the attention given in the salon.

I was perhaps worried that my Annie might start to refuse to go back to being male for the majority of the week — on a Sunday night/Monday morning….. like with the retention of the nail polish…. but there was little sign of this.

(…………..and there remains no sign as I am writing this three and a half years later. Annie is still Andy, my husband, in the week and my wife at weekends!)

The conclusion of my story is rather tame, perhaps, because this is how we have continued…. over three more years……. Annie still comes to the salon on a Friday and we have wonderful times continuing to experiment with Emma's help on the colours and my own with styling. The make-up and nails are routine… isn't that just beautiful!!?? WE are deliriously happy as 'man and wife' and 'wife and wife'.

There has been no coercion or forcing in this process. Andy has had a wonderful new side of his character discovered…… as I have done. He is nowhere near being tempted to "go out and catch guys for sex". He remains a totally heterosexual guy… and a sometime beautiful woman whom I love.

Let me just describe the most recent visit to the salon and you'll see how true this is — and how much our lives have been changed by a simple suggestion all that time ago.

Last Friday.

We woke up in our newly-created bedroom suite.

We have rearranged our home to accommodate a total bedroom experience — the whole top floor of the house that once had four bedrooms now has a magnificent Master/Mistress bedroom with a huge bed. This is attended by two dressing rooms with full wardrobe facilities. One for me and one for him! But the one for him is larger! Why ever is that, I hear you cry!

Simple, his dressing room is larger because he has two ways to dress……. himself and herself! The wardrobes now have a full set of clothes for him as a male and another as a female.

The smallest bedroom has been converted into a beauty salon — for the times when we don't want to go out, but feel the need to be pampered — or to pamper eachother!

The bathroom is a delight — with a walk-in double shower as well as a very large bath — for whenever the mood takes us that way.

Even though it was a working day, we made love as husband and wife. He gave me a really good fucking, so much so that my toes were tingling all day!!

We then showered together and dried eachother with the huge bath sheets we now enjoy — pure luxury!

He donned his "boy" dressing gown and I slipped into my satin robe. We descended the stairs and took breakfast together before getting dressed for the working day.

Friday breakfast was a hasty affair, in view of the time we had "lost" fucking.

What a way to start the weekend!

I left him for work as he went off to dress — as a boy — for the morning's work he would be doing at home. He was due at the salon for eleven thirty. Hardly worth dressing in his boy things really…….. so he chose to lounge around in his girl's dressing gown while he made some phone calls. Ha, Ha! If only some of those contacts could have seen him!

Writing that makes me think how fortunate we have been with the acceptance of most of our friends to whom changes in Andy must have been dramatic. Most of them took the first impact of dramatic hair colour change in their stride. It became quite a laugh between us. What was he doing next?! What colour would they see him next time we had dinner together?!

It was always easy to explain… that he just fancied a change and, as it was of no consequence for work, he could choose whatever he wanted. All of our friends know I am a hairdresser so it was easy for them to see how we could experiment.

Of course, we didn't let them see the changes in the way he was dressing — even when they came for dinner at the weekend. On those few occasions, he had to come out of his girly persona for a Saturday evening… but we made sure he was back into character by the time we switched out the bedroom lights!

Only when Emma came to dinner did we go through with the "being a girl" thing because, by the time of that dinner, a fter nearly three months, she knew that Andy and I were the "item" — she had never met him as my husband previously.

"Lucky girl!!….", she said to me as an aside during the evening. "You see, it was true, he did have much more of an affinity for you than for me. I could tell it was so. The personal chemistry is electric. I bet he's a fantastic fuck!" She was clearly very jealous indeed — which I found quite stimulating, given the attractiveness of both her and him! If I ever thought of a three-some, Emma would be my choice!

Maybe one day! I know she'd be "up for it"!

Annie's most recent visit to the salon brought me one great surprise. After she had been talking with Emma for at least half an hour, and looked through every shade chart she had and talked and talked and scoured many magazines and style books, they went off to the colouring area, out of my view.

It took much longer than normal for him to appear with his hair colour finished so I went over at one point, intending to complain that my appointment schedule was getting screwed up….. to find Emma barring my way through to see him…. "You can't come in!!", she exclaimed.

Then, a few minutes later, all was revealed. Instead of Annie's auburn semi-permanent, which I had expected just to be retouched, there he was…… a real "carrot top!" for the first time. He had gone truly GINGER! OK, there were subtle highlights of a strawberry blonde colour weaved into the head, but overall the impact was stunning! I couldn't wait to touch the hair…. I reached out and lightly fondled the hair beside Andy’s right cheek and then his skin there too. Wonderful!

I spent longer than ever styling his hair, with the most intricate pattern of rollers wound tightly across his head. This would be my masterpiece! It is as long as my own hair now so there is plenty of choice for styles. This last weekend — remember he’s had three years to grow his hair now - has seen him with a wonderfully curled chin-length style that has the sides curled outward in a seventies-style "Farah" flip and the crown backcombed to give height and volume. The streaks make back-combing very tricky, otherwise they lose their definition, but careful hands like mine can handle that.

He/she had her nails manicured again but with a much different colour - you can't have the same old crimson that set off the auburn so well, I told him — A fiery orange tip to each finger was needed. His own nails have grown to a very nice length — a half-inch beyond the fingertips. Friends have begun to notice the length of his nails and that was more difficult to laugh-off, but what the hell!

Off he went, to go shopping on the way home. Three years now, he looks confident in him/herself…. so much so, as I looked at his/her "walk", I knew that we had cracked that maybe final aspect to his being a girl. And don't we both love it.

I still get fucked from Monday to Thursday. My husband is there for me whenever I want him, and if he isn't, there's our lovely fucker for my pussy! I get girl-on-girl sex from Friday to Sunday and she/he has a new life to enjoy. Life couldn't be better. Nobody needs to go beyond this level if they're happy — and we are! Sorry, dear reader, if you were expecting a crescendo of bondage (though we might try that one day!), forced feminization, homosexual sex, gang-bags, or hormones and gender reassignment.

Enjoy life!! I'll leave the final words to Andy — who now really IS a redhead!

Dear Reader, Thank you for coming this far on our journey. I'm delighted that Zoe has written the account, or the autobiography, of our three years' exciting journey. I could not have imagined where this would lead when the first step was take. In fact, I have to read Chapter 1 again to remind myself.

Zoe hoped that other wives would see how such a wonderful existence can be created if they just have the courage to make the first suggestion, if they feel their husbands might be inclined the way I am.

Please, I implore you, ….. TRY IT! ……….YOU'LL LOVE IT!

Lots Of Love,

Andy / Annie xxx