There are two women in his life and its finally time for them to meet.
The Other Woman – Part One
There are two women in his life and its finally time for them to meet.
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This story is dedicated to my friend and fellow author Warm Hearted, who has called me his cheerleader. We have become good friends and confidants, sharing comments and ideas on our stories as well as messaging and e mailing each other regularly.
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I can never find the proper words to say thanks to my editor and friend Chris, who finds the time in a busy life to review my ramblings with comments and insights. Busy editing for other authors at the same time, he is also an author in his own right.
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I had thought this story would only require One part and feel a second part is required to share the thoughts of how the Wife and children relate to The Other Woman.
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All feedback and comments are encouraged and welcome to help improve my writing skills
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The ‘other woman’ has been in our lives - yes, I did say our lives as my wife knows all about her – for many years now. I have not hidden her from my wife; I’m not able to do this really as she lives with us all the time and appears occasionally.
I should say the reason is I cross dress; there, I’ve said it, I’m a cross dresser, I love to dress as a woman. I have been dressing for many years now although I rarely go out dressed, especially where we live as it’s a small town.
No one would say anything if I said I love doing jigsaws, which I do, or love to read, which I also do. Well, I have to read or I wouldn’t know what I’m saying in this story! (Laughs to him/herself at that comment).
As soon as I mention I cross dress, horror of horrors people don’t want to know or are shocked. So, I don’t mention it, more’s the pity as its harmless and relaxes me after a day’s work.
Well I’m digressing here – OK, I’m waffling. Now, back to the other ‘other woman’, my wife.
Although my wife knows about the other woman she has not fully met her; she’s not happy about her although she was influential in her coming into our life and marriage.
Some of the earlier details about having ‘Samantha’ in our lives need not be fully shared here as they involve some horrid and terrible times for my wife and her sisters with regard to a male relation.
To this day - we’ve been married a fair length of time - she has not told me all that happened and I won’t ask for her sake. I can only be there for her when she is ready.
-o-0-o-
Well today’s the day, or, more accurately, the evening when my wife gets to meet the other woman fully - and I meant fully, fully with makeup, wig, the full works so to speak.
There she lies on the bed in all her feminine glory. Well the lingerie, anyway; the skirts and dresses are hanging in the wardrobe along with more choices of blouses – a girl can never have too much clothing!
-o-0-o-
When did I start dressing? I’m not sure exactly, the first thing I do remember was wearing my mum’s bathing costume after my brother chickened out of trying it on. Strange, years later I saw a picture of him fully dressed for a party around the end of October.
Why mum’s costume? Well our sister is ten years younger - frilly panties did not appeal back then; today would be a different story altogether.
With my wife, the first item I remember was a pantie girdle followed by a pair of tights and in jest she called me Samantha at first, then later Sammie and on occasion ‘pussycat’.
So, how and when I got into cross dressing I’m not sure; I don’t feel in all honestly a woman trapped in a man’s body, although I have the greatest respect for those who do.
Our culture tends to focus on two genders: male and female. Some other cultures freely accept a third gender, where a person can be transgendered. In the orient, there appears an acceptance of men who openly dress and live as female without having an operation to change gender.
-o-0-o-
Some years ago, my wife suffered a major trauma event which really changed all our lives when she nearly died on us. Having collapsed at work twice within a month, the first time, just prior to Christmas, was thought to be just a bad migraine and was sent home to rest. The second time, in mid-January, was worse again ending up in the local hospital.
It was discovered after taken head scans and referring them to a larger hospital in the city that she needed to be transferred to this hospital as soon as possible. That same night my wife was transferred for observation and a major operation on her brain due to having three aneurysms and ever since her memory has been poor and I often have to remind her of things it is difficult for her to remember.
Why did the above have a considerable influence involving the other woman? Well, I will try to elaborate over the rest of the story.
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I had reserved two rooms next door to each other, one for my wife and one for the other woman, at a hotel we use regularly where we normally have one room.
Two rooms? Well I was not fully sure of her reaction to meeting Samantha in person in her full war paint and dress.
-o-0-o-
The day my wife was having her operation I was a wreck; our daughter was with me for support. They were longer in theater than expected although we were on the correct side for her recovery.
When we arrived home that evening I went to bed wearing one of her nightdresses so that I had something of hers close to me; it helped a bit but the tears still flowed.
My wife spent ten days in hospital and with us having a family of our own I could not stay with her all the time as I had to support them as well as myself.
Due to the time of year there would be little daylight to drive in and I decided the ‘other woman’, Samantha, would join me on the drive home. I know why I had ‘her’ with me in the suitcase in the boot - I needed the stress relief; nothing at all in a sexual way, just I was so much calmer when wearing some of Samantha’s clothes.
Amazing what a bra and panties set can do to settle me down.
OK, the first time it was just the bra and panties set but later on the suitcase had skirts, tops, shoes, stockings, all a woman requires including makeup and a coat.
Popping into the toilets I got changed into Samantha - at this time it was putting on the underwear and then the top cover of male clothing for the journey home to the children.
-o-0-o-
It is time for the male side of me to slip inside and allow the female side to reappear if only for a shot time - I often wish it were for more than a few hours.
I prefer to have a long soak in the bath so I had made sure the room had a full-sized bath and not a three-quarter sized one. I just cannot relax and soak in one of those.
The bath water running, I mix the bubble bath to soft gentle bubbles as the steam floats around the bathroom misting up the mirror.
Making sure the shaving foam and new razor blades are handy before checking the bath temperature was ideal to step into, I slip out of my house coat. Normally when I bathe I like to read and today is no exception. Holding my tablet carefully I slip lower into the water then find the page to continue reading from.
“You going to get that, sweetcheeks?” Jenny asked as Abi stared at the phone in shocked silence, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“It’s him,” she said, more to herself than to her friend.
The water starts to cool as I get deeply engrossed in the story; I only notice this when I start shivering. Putting the tablet safely out of the way, I top the hot water up and reach over for the razor and shaving foam to seek out any stray hairs.
-o-0-o-
On one occasion a visit to the hospital resulted in the one of the biggest errors any crossdresser can make.
For the journey home I was wearing high heels, stockings and a short black (almost mini) skirt, with knee length coat, handbag and full make-up. While this may be lovely to wear unfortunately it can also give the wrong signals to other males as it can and often does make them think you are looking to be more intimate.
The vast majority of cross dressers are heterosexual and dress for their own pleasure; sure, some may be gay or bi, but I believe that for the majority it’s just for the joy of dressing. Yes, for many it can be sexual, especially in the early days of dressing, but… well, I suppose really, we all have our own reasons for dressing.
Anyway, on the way home I felt tired and for safety reasons pulled into a lay by for a cat nap and a comfort break. There were already two cars there, both just with parking lights on and some movement in the back of one of them.
I went into the bushes to have a comfort break (what, none of you ever been caught short?), managing to tear my stockings on some thorns in the process.
“Damn, my last good pair until I get home!” I thought ruefully.
By the time I got back to my car, one of the other vehicles had driven off. The other car occupier was watching me and turned his lights on full to see me, which blinded me for a moment or two. It also shocked me at the same time – hardly surprising, considering how I was dressed! The man wound his window down and asked if I was looking for business; my tiredness seemed to vanish and, my heart pounding, I got in my car and drove away.
Having made sure his car did not follow me I started to relax a little and further up the road stopped to put on some male outer wear.
It’s fine to dress in the other genders clothing as long as it’s not for any illegal reasons but this experience taught me that it’s a good idea to give some thought to how you dress and where you go.
-o-0-o-
Stepping out of the bath I pull the plug; I’m hoping it’s not the last thing that I pull today, I’m praying that my wife will accept the ‘other woman’ in person. I glance over to the bed where my new full length, black, see-though nightdress lies on the pillow.
I put the dressing gown back on with a little shiver and not just from coming out of the bath – I’m nervous about this evening. Having dressed for years and more recently fully, this evening is special as I am about to reveal to one woman in my life the other woman, both of whom I love. One very, very, deeply; the other, the other me… well love may be too strong a term here. ‘Like and enjoy’ might be more accurate.
Time to stop and get dressed for this evening. I do my toe nails and finger nails in deep red and wait for them to dry before continuing to dress.
I am fortunate in my build and size, only 5 feet 4 tall, medium build with size 7 feet, comfortable with a size 34c Chest, padded bras are wonderful for me to wear, fitting comfortably into size 14 to 16 clothing and size 8 ladies’ shoes for comfort.
-o-0-o-
I tend to purchase a lot of my female clothing from online shopping sites and / or charity shops – I’ve ended up probably having more ladies’ clothes than male. I also have a passion for stockings, preferably seamed, and particularly love Cuban heeled stockings, normally black with a red seam. To go with the stockings of course you need something to clip them on to if they’re not hold-ups. Back to the computer another on line search for Basques or suspender belts.
The thing for most cross dressers we must be aware of is how we dress and we really should be careful. We tend to dress very femininely and by this, I mean we tend more to dress with skirts and dresses with nylons and high heels. We stand out just by the way we dress, never mind adding makeup. My female wardrobe has no trousers, joggers or slacks in it at all.
Most women, with modern styles and cultural acceptance, tend more to wear trousers, slacks and jogging-type bottoms and rarely daily dress with skirts and dresses; these seem to be reserved more for formal functions or special occasions.
-o-0-o-
For tonight I have chosen a beautiful matching bra and panties set, with a suspender belt in black with some purple floral detail which complements the other underwear perfectly.
The skirt is half calf length in faux black leatherette with back zip and a lower slit for ease of walking. My blouse hanging next to my skirt on the wardrobe rail is dark purple, almost see through, full sleeved with floral decoration similar to that on the lingerie.
I am no beauty although I can be presentable so, sitting at the vanity, it’s foundation, setting powder and a check to see if another layer is required. Three shades of brown eyeshadow blended together to help my blue eyes stand out. Working with the mascara, still occasionally poking the corner of my eye – ouch! Satisfied that it’s passable I move on to my lips and put a couple of coats of red lipstick on and that’s it - ready for what is about to happen this evening.
Well not entirely ready; there’s the wig cap and soft mousy-blonde wig, shoulder length with some curls, to put on and secured with discreetly placed hair clips.
Checking that the red seams of my stockings are straight I slip on my skirt before putting on my blouse. Slipping on my black three-inch wedge heels I check my watch and see that I still have around ten minutes before my wife comes to meet the other woman in our lives.
Glancing around the room to check that it’s tidy I turn the main light off; with just the wall lights on the room has a better ambience. The radio is on, with a local channel playing music in the background. I check in the bathroom mirror and put on the long clip on earrings and using my favorite scent A Hint of Musk, put a little on my wrists and spray a little under my skirt. Finally, I spray some into the air and walk thought the mist it forms so it covers my head and top of the body.
There is a knock on the door and, with one final check in the full-length mirror, I open it to see my wife dressed as lovely as ever. I step back to let her in and she gives me that all over look.
“So, you’re the woman my husband is involved with” she whispers.
As I close the door behind her she adds, “Samantha, we need to talk…”
The End of Part One
The Other Woman Part Two
Continuing the story of how a wife meets the other woman in their lives, who happens to be her husband.
This story is dedicated to my friend and fellow author Warm Hearted, who has called me his cheerleader. We have become good friends and confidants, sharing comments and ideas on our stories as well as messaging and emailing each other regularly.
I can never find the proper words to say thanks to my editor and friend Chris, who finds the time in a busy life to review my ramblings with comments and insights. Busy editing for other authors at the same time, he is also an author in his own right.
All comments are welcome as we never stop learning and improving, thank you for taking the time to read this story, I will respond to all comments. Thanks.
Apologies for the delay in posting this part of TOW real life took a solid grip mostly at work.
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“So, you’re the woman my husband is involved with” she whispers.
As I close the door behind her she adds, “Samantha, we need to talk…”
-o-O-o-
Antony Donaldson was born… well, when Mum was ready, as they said in those days (now behave you lot – I may be older but I’m not ancient!). She was carrying twins and we turned out to be premature as well, arriving just before Christmas. What a bummer that was to be in later years for birthday and Christmas presents!
I am the second twin and I always claim I kicked my brother out to get more room inside mum; as it turned out I did not get much time on my own as I arrived shortly afterwards. Around ten years later our sister arrived. This age gap would be a factor when I started cross dressing as I am not into nappies and rubber panties, although panties with ruffles is another thing… well, I diverse a little but it’s my story so I can do so if I wish. OK, OK, back on track now.
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Joanna Johnstone was born a few years after Tony into a large family; she was one of seven children and had three brothers and three sisters. Joanna occasionally got called JJ by her siblings.
As mentioned previously, growing up there were issues with an uncle who took advantages with the girls that their parents would not accept. Sadly, to this day Joanna has not revealed to me the full extent of these horrors and all I can do is be around for her if ever she wishes to talk to me about this. I can only say that when that illegitimate son of a b**** died Joanna made sure that we went to the funeral for at least some form of closure.
-o-O-o-
In all honesty, it was not love at first sight, although we did start to get to know each other better over the coming years. We developed a love which grew and grew until we exchanged wedding bands and eventually had three children together – all in all, the years have been generous to us.
We have had our ups and downs, disagreements, fallouts, making up and they have made us stronger and more aware of each other’s feelings. The other type of makeup started being slowly introduced throughout our marriage.
-o-O-o-
My dressing has changed over the years and so has how it influences me.
Early on the clothing had an instant sensual effect, for example, the act of clipping the catches of my bra together and twisting it round so the cups are at the front covering my breasts; I still have a fight with any bra if I try to fasten the catches behind my back, either not catching the hook and eyes in the correct place or getting the top hook into the bottom eye.
Once on properly the feeling of the bra hugging my body is just wonderful; then it’s slipping up the panties, some a little smaller to restrain that bulge and give a smoother front. Now the suspender belt and stockings. The suspender belt is easier to put on than the bra, slipping the tabs under the panties before sliding the stockings up shaved legs and attaching them to the tabs. When younger this drove me to the point where I had to get some relief, swiftly followed by guilty feelings and the instant urge to take all these wonderful garments off.
The feelings of guilt eventually vanished and the garments stayed on for longer each time. I much prefer stockings over tights and have a passion for seamed stockings, (fishnets feel different again) and I have grown to love Cuban heeled stockings.
-o-O-o-
JJ was aware of my dressing although our children were asking her questions as to why I always ducked down in the bedroom if they wanted to come in or covered myself with a blanket as they passed.
This was due to their dad getting dressed or undressed in his girl clothes; JJ was getting more and more annoyed at their questions and would not tell the kids.
We fell out over this and JJ told me that I had to tell the kids about their dad’s crossdressing.
It felt so much easier to chat about THAT talk, the ‘birds and the bees’ talk, rather than about my dressing and fondness for woman`s clothing. Even then I felt the bees won out.
Our daughter was much more accepting than our boys and even has given me nail polish and the like as Christmas presents, adding that just because I like to wear nail polish and the rest I am still their Dad and always will be there for them; I think the presents were her way of showing that she was there for me.
-o-O-o-
JJ on the other hand was accepting of Samantha she just did not wish to physically see her. We had many a disagreement over the years about finding my clothes in the washing basket on the bathroom floor, mainly due to the children still living at home. They knew about Dad, but knowing is one thing, seeing is different altogether.
I did try not to leave the clothes out and it was becoming increasingly difficult to find some time or place to dress.
This all changed when I moved positions within the company I was employed by to another hotel a fair distance away from home. Having to travel up and down allowed me to dress at least in my underwear when driving and in the privacy my room at the hotel.
Joanna was having a tough time when I was away at work, our youngest was only six weeks old at the time and money was tight. It was essential for us both that I could get home and support JJ and the children, for her it felt like she was a single parent, which I could understand. My love for her deepened even more; I admired her strength looking after a new born as well as the two older children.
It became difficult to return to work as our relationship was becoming strained with us being apart only seeing each other for two days a week and on holidays for almost 18 months.
JJ and I eventually found an apartment close to the hotel, it was not entirely large enough, it did mean we were able to get back together under the same roof.
-o-O-o-
Earlier in the story I revealed my wife developed some serious health issues which resulted in various trips and stays in a hospital a fair distance away from home. I had to stay down with her and would book a hotel room with one of the major chains. I have used the same hotel over the years for further hospital visits as it is convenient for us.
This also gave the opportunity for Samantha to come along with us so I could dress in the room for a fleeting time while JJ was having her check-ups; often this was just overnight due to the timing of the appointments.
One of these appointments was different from normal as JJ was not due at the hospital until 8pm and would be staying for up to three days. This appointment was to monitor her sleep as she often stops breathing in her sleep, with previous stays causing the nursing staff to wake her to get her to breath. They eventually found my wife suffered from sleep apnoea, which I have discovered is not uncommon.
Due to hospital visiting guidelines certain days do not have visiting in the afternoon to allow for operations in the theaters.
With the late time to get to the hospital and the following day with no afternoon visits I would have time to be Samantha for longer than normal. Having already taken Samantha`s suitcase into the room and running the bath water ready for a soak in the scented bubble bath it was not long before Tony disappeared and Samantha appeared.
Sam left the hotel and went for a drive and parked up in a car park where she went for a walk in the late November night, pulling her jacket close around her body – unfortunately the jacket was her male one as she had no female jackets or coats. I say unfortunately as she got some make up stains on the collar and did not notice this at the time.
Back at the hotel Sam was in a great mood having been out as Samantha and, with the help of the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, would spend the night in her black nightdress. To wake up in the morning and spending most of the day dressed was just heavenly for Samantha.
Later in the evening, back in Tony mode, I arrived for the evening visiting to see JJ. As usual we did not have much to talk about. This seems to be the way with hospital visits – after the first five or ten minutes the conversation dries up.
I got up to leave and picked my jacket up; JJ noticed the marks on the collar and asked what they were. I tried to say it was just some dirt but JJ knew better.
“They look more like makeup stains to me,” she said, looking me in the eye. “You’ve been dressing up again and using makeup as well. I know you dress, Tony, I just don’t want to see it,” she added with a sigh of frustration. I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips before turning away.
‘That’s just the thing,’ I thought to myself, ‘I need you to meet her.’
Back at the hotel I sat on the bed absently caressing my black nightdress and wondering about how I could get JJ to meet Samantha and what effect this might have on our marriage.
JJ was discharged the next day and I put Samantha away for the moment so as not to upset my wife. It saddened me to do so and I continued to think of ways for the two women to meet in person.
-o-O-o-
It was an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ acceptance of Samantha, although early on it was not always out of sight.
In the early days of our marriage, before the children arrived, as consenting adults we had fun and games being intimate with each other. I remember one occasion with us lying in the living room in front of an open fire, just relaxing and enjoying our time together after a busy week for us both.
I was wearing this wonderful red basque with stockings tugging on the clasps with a little make up assisted by JJ – I’m sorry to say I have no recollection of what JJ was wearing, despite taking some pictures on a Polaroid camera. The photos all ended up in the fire when the children eventually enhanced our lives and made a couple into a family.
-o-O-o-
Our daughter is much more accepting of Samantha than the boys, which I find interesting as I am fully aware that one of the boy’s dresses on occasion as well. I only found this out when I was looking for some tools to do a repair to something or another in the house and opened a tool box which proved to have no tools inside, just some sexy female clothing.
For some reason, I find it difficult to raise the subject with him and am waiting for him to do so himself, which I doubt very much will happen. I have even thought of asking to borrow the black boots I saw to broach the subject.
I am comfortable being Samantha at home or in a hotel bed room but find it difficult to go our as her – when I do it’s dark and only for a fleeting moment. Although it’s not illegal to dress in the clothing of the opposite gender it is not generally viewed as socially acceptable, so exactly how comfortable I am, I’m not sure – I do know Samantha is Tony and Tony is Samantha.
-o-O-o-
JJ and I have a wonderful marriage, apart from this other woman in our lives; Samantha. Samantha Ann Donaldson, to give her full name. Yep, her initials do spell SAD and she often does not use the surname for that reason.
Over the years, she fades into the background and then rears up and appears again although she is never far away. Always packed in a suitcase when we are away from home and appearing, discreetly, when Joanna is sleeping or in the hospital.
I did say to JJ that I wanted her to meet Samantha in person as she is aware of her and despite me respecting JJ’s choice I still leave Samantha’s clothing – mainly bra, panties, stockings and suspender belt, but sometimes skirts and tops – in the bathroom in the washing basket. I generally get ‘that look’, followed by the talk about the children in the house; well, they’re adults now and know about Samantha.
Anyway, I kept on at JJ about wanting her to meet my other persona and over time I just wore her down – after all, she did have some hand in the earlier days of Samantha. Not her birth as the woman inside was already around, though she did not have a name. JJ suggested a few and we settled on Samantha.
-o-0-o-
Tony in the meantime was still uncertain about meeting Joanna while dressed, although he knew he had to let her she him dressed, not hidden away in a suitcase in wardrobe in the house.
JJ also had reservations regarding meeting this other woman and made some conditions when eventually agreeing to meeting her. The children were not to be involved and it could not to be at home or even in our home town.
I suggested the hotel we used when JJ had to visit the hospital and she agreed provided we booked two rooms, explaining that she still was not entirely comfortable with this and needed her own space. Naturally I respected her request as I was the one pushing for her to meet my other self.
-o-O-o-
“So, you’re the woman my husband is involved with” she whispered.
As I close the door behind her she adds, “Samantha, we need to talk…”
“Yes, I know we must talk,” replied Samantha, her nerves showing in the shakiness of her voice.
Without saying another word, she thought to herself, “Well at least she looks passable,” which surprised her as she had been expecting Samantha’s makeup to have been overdone, something like teenage girl trying makeup for the first time. “SHE,” Joanna realised. “That’s my husband and I’m thinking of him as a ‘her’!”
-o-0-o-
Joanne had thought long and hard about Tony’s insistence that she should meet this ‘other woman’. other woman? Maybe it would be better if it was another woman, but it was not. It was her husband, her soul mate, her… well, she was not even sure what to do, say or even think.
He is a man, my man – or so I thought. They don’t dress in woman’s clothing unless they want to be one, to be treated as one.
But… from the very beginning he was there for me, even when I pushed him away when the memories rushed in from my childhood. I hurt him emotionally and he was still there, sharing the hurt with me without asking for the details.
Will meeting the ‘other woman’ do more harm than good? I can’t discuss my feelings with someone else without revealing the reason; after all, it’s a family secret. No, it’s not even that – it’s his secret, not the family’s.
If it gets out what will it do to me, to the kids, to the marriage? What about my feelings about this – MY feelings… and, I suppose, what about his?
-o-0-o-
Now they are face to face in the other woman’s room.
-o-O-o
Joanne noticed the glasses and the unopened bottle of wine on the dresser, turning back to Ton… no, not Tony; that night, the way he was dressed he was Samantha; she could see no sign of her husband.
“We may be a least be relaxed as we talk,” Joanna said as she sat down. “Open the wine, I think it will help me – you look as you need one as well” she added.
JJ watched as Samantha opened the wine; all her movements were very feminine, totally different from the way Tony walked and thumped around, a finesse and gentleness obviously practiced over the years.
Her makeup… although not perfect it was at least presentable, JJ had to concede, with some admiration despite her initial reservations.
Samantha handed her wife a glass and sat opposite her, smoothing her skirt like she had been doing so all her life.
Taking a sip of wine, JJ looked at Samantha.
“I’m listening,” she said.
Samantha was still very nervous and took a large gulp of wine almost emptying the glass in one go.
“I’m not sure this is a such clever idea now – I’d best get changed and we can talk later.”
She went to stand up but JJ just held up her hand.
“No,” she said firmly, “we’re here now so stay dressed as you are. I know this is difficult for you, well for me as well,” she added, her nerves and anticipation showing in her voice; “Go easy with that wine swallowing it that fast will hit you hard and you want to talk, not get drunk”
“Sit back down, to be honest you look better than I had expected. For a man, you make rather an attractive woman,” she smiled as she spoke. “You need a little help with your makeup, but otherwise…”.
Trying to relax the tense atmosphere Samantha sat back down after topping up her glass.
“Well, I wanted you to meet Samantha, the other woman in our lives… sometimes, it’s more of a need.” Samantha said, looking at her wife.
Standing up, JJ moved over to her husband.
“Well Samantha, we meet at last. I’m Joanna, or JJ if you prefer.” She then leaned forward and gave Samantha a peck on both cheeks as ladies tend to do. “What do we do now?”
“I am not sure, JJ. I’ve been wanting you to meet me, Samantha, for a long time and have been trying to think of a way to do so. When you noticed the makeup stain on my jacket collar that last time you were in for tests, I knew there and then I had to get you to meet me, the other person in our marriage."
“I know you are aware of Samantha and have been for many years. Well, she has become a large part of my life and she helps me to relax from the strains of my work. Recently they have been asking me to finish something by tomorrow, well that’s the day after today and I am still working on things from yesterday. Samantha helps me calm down and be more relaxed around you."
“I love to dress as a woman and still be a man as well. There are many others in this world who have problems being who they, born in the wrong body or are intersexed and struggling to be accepted by family, friends and colleagues. I’m lucky, I have a choice – others don’t. So, where do we go from here?”
Samantha looked at JJ with some anticipation.
“Well, I think to start with I will go back to my room.”
JJ saw the look of disappointment in Samantha’s face and even the start of some tears with her comment.
“I’m just going to get my nightdress,” she continued. “While I’m gone you can change into the one that’s peeking out from under that pillow. I already know Tony and I think I want to spend the night with Samantha to try and get to know her better”
JJ went to her room to get her nightwear while Samantha was in shock that she wanted him to wear that lovely nightdress and to stay as herself for the rest of the evening.
JJ returned with her nightwear and popped into the bathroom to change.
Leaving her makeup on she returned to the bedroom and looked at Samantha with love in her eyes and in her body language.
“I know it’s not good to sleep with make up on but we will just this evening, both of us. We’ll take care of it in the morning. Now darling, why don’t we slip over under the covers so we can talk more?”
JJ joined the other woman, her husband, dressed as Samantha, slid in the bed, one hand reached down between her husband’s legs, as the other switched the rest of the lights off “not sure we will get much talking done” JJ added as darkness filled the room.
The Other Woman – Part Three
Continuing the story of how a wife meets the other woman in their lives, who happens to be her husband.
This story is dedicated to my friend and fellow author Warm Hearted, who has called me his cheerleader. We have become good friends and confidants, sharing comments and ideas on our stories as well as messaging and emailing each other regularly.
I can never find the proper words to say thanks to my editor and friend Chris, who finds the time in a very busy life to review my ramblings with comments and insights. Chris continues to edit for others as well as writing and posting his own stories.
All comments are welcome as we never stop learning and improving, thank you for taking the time to read this story, I will respond to all comments. Thanks.
- - -
JJ joined the other woman, her husband, dressed as Samantha, slid in the bed, one hand reached down between her husband’s legs, as the other switched the rest of the lights off.
“Not sure we’ll get much talking done,” JJ added as darkness filled the room.
Tony enjoyed sleeping in ladies’ nightwear; tonight was a dream come true – or was it a nightmare, a nightmare that could destroy their relationship? – as he shared the bed with JJ whilst dressed as Samantha.
The darkness was filled with the intimacy of a couple who have been together for over thirty odd years and known each other even longer. It was loving and fulfilling for both, if not as long lasting as in the early days of their marriage satisfying.
Drifting off to sleep JJ voiced her thoughts.
“We’ll have that talk in the morning.”
Samantha was not sure if she wished the morning to arrive.
-o-0-o-
Tony had been dressing for years in women’s clothing and he enjoyed doing so, at times with Joanna`s placid support and encouragement. Her support gradually waned until often, exasperated and annoyed, she would turn around and storm out of the room shouting “Not again!” before slamming the door behind her.
-o-0-o-
The darkness of the night faded away with the dawn of the new day; morning had arrived sooner than desired. JJ and Samantha were entwined together with the sheet covering their bodies, as JJ turned away from the new day pulling the sheet around herself. The movement woke Samantha, who now regretted gulping that glass of wine down; whilst she had not got drunk, she did have a sore head.
Samantha sat up and put her head in her hands before going to the bathroom to get some water. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, a thought occurred thought to her:
‘JJ was right – going to bed with makeup on wasn’t the greatest idea. It’s all over the place and smudged,’ She wiped it away; remembering the reasons for some of that smudging
caused her to smile to herself.
The smile faded quickly at the thought of the talk with JJ that was to take place shortly.
-o-0-o-
JJ felt her husband getting off the bed to go and refresh himself. The intimacy last night was wonderful, very intimate, more satisfying. Samantha had satisfied her more than Tony usually did and she was uncertain of her feelings. Trying to get her head around these feeling she remained still as Samantha went to freshen up
-o-0-o-
A short time later both had dressed and sitting down with the last of the coffee supplied in the hotel room. The silence in the room was deafening, each waiting for the other to say something.
JJ was the first to speak.
“You wanted to talk to me about this,” both her arms and hands fanned out indicating to Samantha, “so talk.”
“I’m not sure where to start,” Samantha replied nervously.
JJ folded her arms across her chest, locking her hands at the elbows and staring into the eyes of her husband’s made-up face. Wordlessly, the stare indicated ‘I’m waiting’.
“I’m aware that you know about this side of me,” her husband began, “you even gave me my femme name. The thing is, I want you to spend more time with Samantha.” The nerves started to settle the more she talked. “She’s a large part of me and I can’t hide her any more. Also, I find it more difficult not to dress at home; although the kids know and are away from home, there’s always the chance they could drop by unexpectedly.”
Taking a deep breath, JJ interrupted.
“I’d much prefer more time with Tony.”
“I know you would and I respect that, it`s just I need to be Samantha,” not looking at JJ. “I want, no I need, you to have some time with her.”
“Samantha, last night in bed was wonderful,” JJ responded with kindness in her voice. “We were closer than we have been for ages, but I’m just not attracted to women – even if the ‘woman’ is my husband. This is not what I want,” she added.
“You wish this to happen, not me. I’m aware of why you dress, I know it helps you relax and it makes you feel like a woman…” JJ suddenly want very quiet. “Oh my, I’ve just realised – you want to be treated as a woman when you dress… fully, I mean… being penetrated, having intercourse”
“Absolutely not!” Samantha yelled, her face reddening at the thought.
-o-0-o-
Her memory drifted back to one of the early days, when JJ was in hospital and Tony was travelling back home to be with the children. Of course, it was Samantha driving and not Tony.
Samantha was enjoying the chance to get dressed up for the journey home, the thrill much stronger than the worry of being caught out as man in women’s clothing.
The dark cold nights helped, as Samantha had to wear more conservative clothing rather than the above the knee skirts she usually preferred.
Wearing a pair of red knee length boots, the matching faux leather skirt was restricting as she walked to the car. Samantha moaned as she sat in the seat as she had also decided to use a plug in her rear for the journey home.
Not being used to the plug, it was uncomfortable and she decided to pull off the road, remove the plug and take a rest. By this time Sammie knew where to park up for a rest, having used the same layby a few times before.
Another car was already there; Sammie parked further down the layby and popped into the wooded area to have a pee and to remove the plug. The occupant of the other car was already in the woods next to where she had stopped and saw her.
He let her know he was there; she turned around to see the man, his cock enlarged and being stroked.
“I love girls like you, he said.”
Well, she could hardly deny she was male as he had watched her standing to pee with her cock in her hand.
“Do you want to have something to replace that plug you just removed?” he added. The darkness hid her blushes and embarrassment.
“Well… I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a real cock there instead of the plug or a vibrator.”
One thing led to another and soon she was bent over holding on to a tree trunk as her… suitor? pickup? john? started to pound her rear; feeling his balls against her, she knew he was fully in. It hurt at first but eventually the pain faded to a point where, although it was not altogether pleasurable, it was not entirely uncomfortable either. Samantha certainly had something to think about for the rest of the journey home. She had, of course, insisted that he wore protection before taking her virginity, as she was aware of the health risks of unprotected sex.
-o-0-o-
JJ noticed her blushing and embarrassment and decided to say something.
“Well, if you change your mind, I can always get a strap-on!” Her blushing matched Samantha’s own, then both of them suddenly laughed and it helped lighten the atmosphere.
-o-0-o-
JJ stood, came over to her and held her hands.
“Samantha, I love both of your sides and though I much prefer you as Tony, it was different last night and to be honest, I think it might be something I may wish to try again. I just need time to work this all out in my head.”
“I know you do and it was different for me as well,” Samantha replied. “So what now – where do we go from here?”
“Well, why don’t we get changed and cleaned up? You go back to being Tony and pack Samantha away, I’ll go back to my room to clean up and change into something more appropriate for daytime. Then we’ll get breakfast as husband and wife and talk about our future.”
-o-0-o-
We talked and came to an agreement; Samantha’s still around and gets away to a hotel now and then; mostly on her own, as JJ is still reluctant to stay over with Samantha, whereas Tony takes JJ’s feelings into account more these days.
-o-0-o-
After the encounter at the layby when Samantha lost her virginity to a stranger, she decided it was something she would like to try again; returning to the layby one night, by pure chance she met the man again at the same layby and this time was even more willing to have safe sex with him.
Nowadays, Joanna`s health is vastly improved and she does not have to go to hospital overnight; consequently, Samantha does not stop in laybys any more and the events in the layby are now just distant memories.
THE END?
The Other Woman – Part Four
Continuing the story of how a wife meets the other woman in their lives, who happens to be her husband.
This story is dedicated to my friend and fellow author Warm Hearted, who has called me his cheerleader. We have become good friends and confidants, sharing comments and ideas on our stories as well as messaging and emailing each other regularly.
I can never find the proper words to say thanks to my editor and friend Chris, who finds the time in a very busy life to review my ramblings with comments and insights. Chris continues to edit for others as well as writing and posting his own stories.
All comments are welcome as we never stop learning and improving, thank you for taking the time.
Please remember this story is mostly fiction with some real events in our lives to hang the story on to and give it a base of realism
-o-0-o-
JJ suddenly want very quiet. “Oh my, I’ve just realised – you want to be treated as a woman when you dress… fully, I mean… being penetrated, having intercourse”
“Absolutely not!” Samantha yelled, her face reddening at the thought.
Samantha had to turn away from JJ as this was indeed one of her fantasies while she was dressed.
Nowadays, Joanna`s health is vastly improved and she does not have to go to hospital overnight; consequently, Samantha does not stop in laybys anymore and the events in the layby are now just distant memories.
Or are they?
Secrets and lies to protect the innocent – or is it to protect the guilty? Only time will tell.
The memories of the visit to that layby recovered distant memories hidden deep and almost forgotten, akin to having too much to drink, then acting in an idiotic way and doing things that you later deny doing when in reality you do recall.
Selective memory is a handy thing; you deny things you clearly remember to avoid that “Oh God, I did, didn’t I?” moment, and also you use it to embarrass others when they do the same: “Surely you remember kissing that other man last night in the corner of the bar and performing the Funky Chicken dance in the queue at the taxi rank?”
-o-0-o-
Joanna had a difficult childhood having six siblings and a father who was ex armed forces. He brought that discipline in to the home; he was a loving father to all but often seemed to forget that his family were not military personnel.
As both parents were working, they sometimes asked another member of the family to watch them; he abused Joanna and her sister and this obviously caused a lifelong distrust of males.
Regrettably her parents did not believe the girls about what the relative was doing with them and he never received any punishment for his crimes.
When he died Joanna wanted to go to the funeral to make sure the b*****d was gone and to bring closure to herself and her sister and almost certainly others as well.
-o-0-o-
Joanna was and still is insecure in her life and also is jealous when Tony is friendly with other women. Tony has spent most of his working life with woman and is more comfortable around woman than men. Having said that, Joanna is always on at Tony about his female mannerisms which mainly stem from working mostly with women.
Tony often thinks that the female mannerisms represent Samantha trying to come to the surface, even when Tony is Tony.
Tony`s adventures as Samantha are completely hidden from Joanna as he fully understands the dire consequences to their marriage. This is the only secret that he has not revealed to Joanna and involves deceit in what Tony gets up to along and Tony hates this and is one reason he wanted Joanna to meet Samantha.
Tony still chickened out of telling her even when she asked him about wanting to be penetrated.
-o-0-o-
Many years before, Joanna had told Tony of a dream she’d had in which she had arrived home from work to find him in bed fully dressed as Samantha and, even worse for her, in bed with an unknown man; yes, she repeated, a man.
As they were under the covers she could not tell if they had been, or were about to be intimate.
Tony reassured her that it was just a dream, nothing more, and would not happen. Truthfully, it has never happened.
-o-0-o-
Tony is described as heterosexual and for the main is, although most of us have had some form of intimate relationship with a person of the same gender, usually in their youth when going through puberty.
Tony did this when working in a hotel and had a relationship with another male on the staff; neither felt this was anything other than an experiment. They parted as friends a short time later when the other male went to join the army.
-o-0-o-
Samantha is also heterosexual; when fully dressed, she thinks very much as a woman in all ways and does wonder what it would be like to be intimate as a woman with a male
-o-0-o-
Not sure what the above means for Antony – is he heterosexual, gay or bi? Or is he heterosexual defined by the clothing he or she wears at any one time?
One thing is certain is it will be very difficult to come out to Joanna that when he dresses as Samantha she wants to be treated as a woman and if the opportunity to arrive would she take the expected side of a woman.
It’s still a lie and deceitful not to tell Joanna and would hurt her deeply, Tony is very aware of this deceit and often feels what she does not know will not hurt her.
At the end of the day Tony is still male no matter now he dresses or its it down to a mindset guided by the outer clothing
-o-0-o-
Samantha has been dressing for years; sometimes fully, at other times just stockings suspenders and panties with the occasional camisole top.
JJ is rarely with Samantha when she is ‘fifty-fifty’ dressed, only when they are away on holiday or having to go back for the occasional hospital check-up.
This is usually just a day appointment these days, with one overnight stay in the hotel with both in the same room.
Often when alone Tony has a case in the car for Samantha as he likes to drive dressed on occasion.
Samantha wished to explore her female side by searching on the internet for some TV sites and joined a few of them. One of the sites had information on dogging sites where Samantha discovered that the layby he had stopped in was listed as a gay pick-up area so this explained why the man was hanging around that layby.
After finding the information Samantha’s interest was piqued and she did return a few times (not fully dressed) during the day light with a few cars already parked up and would only get out of the car for a comfort break and for a look around.
Samantha also was on a gay dating site being honest
about being a cross-dresser, finding that sites like that are more accepting of cross-dressers and transgendered people.
Suffice it to say Samantha has thought about JJ’s dream and has never allowed this to come to fruition the way she described in the dream although her female side has meet other males for a kiss and a fumble in the back seat of a car and not went all the way.
-o-0-o-
Most cross-dressers dress for the enjoyment of the clothes and at times for a sexual thrill. For a small number of others, there is a desire to experience how a woman feels with a man.
It’s unclear if Antony is straight, gay or bisexual and if he even should have a one to one talk with Joanna as it was only the one occasion that he had safe sex – still it feels wrong
When and if Antony/Samantha gets his act together to chat honestly with JJ it’s certainly going to be some conversation and you would all want to be a fly on the wall for that.
Like most of us we will have to wait and see.
-o-0-o-
Ref: There is a well written description done with delicacy and understanding of similar abuse, that JJ and her Sisters suffered, to Robin by a family so called friend towards the end of Chapter 16 of Robbie’s Revelations by Rebecca Jane.
I can in no way match how Rebecca was able to do so and still reel at the horror of the abuse, I also have tears every time I read it.
It underlines why we should listen and act when we are told these things, regrettably it is those we trust most that are often not to be trusted at all.
The story “Robbie`s Revelation by Rebecca Jane” can be found on Fictionmania and Big Closet
The Other Woman – Part Five
Continuing the story of how a wife meets the other woman in their lives, who happens to be her husband.
This story is dedicated to my friend and fellow author Warm Hearted, who has called me his cheerleader.
We have become good friends and confidants, sharing comments and ideas on our stories as well as messaging and emailing each other regularly.
I can never find the proper words to say thanks to my editor and friend Chris, who finds the time in a very busy life to review my ramblings with comments and insights. Chris continues to edit for others as well as writing and posting his own stories.
All comments are welcome as we never stop learning and improving, thank you for taking the time to read this story, all comments will be responded to.
Please remember this story is mostly fiction with some real events in our lives to hang the story on to and give it a base of realism.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Up to now the story has been told through Tony’s eyes; it’s time to for Joanna to have her say.
-o-0-o-
I was and still am a very shy person always in the background staying out of sight mostly due to my upbringing.
Growing up in a large family (Mum, Dad and six siblings), it was always a struggle to make ends meet. I often had to wear hand me downs from my older sister or from distant relations, which was difficult enough without getting teased by all and sundry at school.
I felt embarrassed at this as my classmates always appeared to have all the modern fads and brand-new clothing. We walked the long journey to school on many occasions, the shortage of money meaning we were unable to afford the bus fare.
Around the age of eleven I started going into my mum’s place of work; she was a kitchen porter in one of the local hotels.
It was here I started to come out of my shell a little and found a passion in cooking, eventually making a career of this, specialising in patisserie.
The chefs were friendly and while I was waiting for Mum we chatted away. They regularly gave me some of their dishes to taste: if I’m truly honest, it was just more than a taste, it was a meal that I did not have to share with my siblings.
I am wary – very wary – of men, due to a relative who abused us as children, myself more than my younger sisters, as I did not want them to suffer the way I did.
No one knows the fully story, just me, not even my husband Tony. Not sharing with him means it hurts me more, but it’s my hurt, my memories that I want, no, NEED, to block if I am ever to forget that nightmare.
I want the innocence back, I want my girlhood back, I had all that but it’s gone, gone forever, taken by that monster.
-o-0-o-
No matter how much I push him, test his patience, turn him down or away he looks at me with love – a love that I had never known although there is always hurt in his eyes. He is Anthony Donaldson, the man who would become my husband.
Like many couples, we met through work and I was attracted to him almost instantly. For Tony it was not at love at first sight; he was honest about that and told me I just grew on him.
Tony was the first man that treated me as a person and not an object, the rest only wanted one thing from me, to get their jollies, not even considering my needs and desires. We took time when we started courting – he is a bit old fashioned that way, calling it courting and not dating.
He would open doors for me, and when we were out walking, arm in arm, Tony would always be on the street side – unless there was a large puddle in the road and a car was driving towards it, then he would ensure I was on the street side! He did not do that really, it’s just my wicked side escaping.
He was and is still like that and although nowadays we don’t get away together as often as we would like, he is still my gentleman.
My issues with males all extend from my youth. I felt uncomfortable, even with Tony, and when we tried to be intimate together I often tended to be cold. I was uncomfortable going anywhere near his penis: I would withdraw into myself, sometimes even turning my back on him. Therefore, I never blamed him for playing with himself to get relief.
Eventually we had to do something about this and I got Tony to wear a panty-girdle to hide his penis so we could at least be comfortable in bed. He agreed as he loved me and it was another way of him supporting me.
Our marriage was very special for me, as this man accepted me as myself, although I was so happy to be married I thought the rest of the world should stop and we should only focus on each other. I misunderstood this: our own interests before getting married had to be continued, we needed these interests to be included or we would snipe and bark at each other. Eventually I began to worry that the marriage would die.
This was part of the reason for our first real fight in the marriage where we cleared the air by shouting at each other, not the best thing to do in all honesty. Tony also was unhappy as he felt he was giving his all and I was just taking things from the marriage, and he was feeling used. At first, I did not agree and it took some time for me to see where he was coming from.
I do remember afterwards I asked Tony “if he still loved me.”
“Of course, I do – why do you think we’re having this argument?” was his reply.
One afternoon Tony was lying with me in bed wearing a pair of panties, still being considerate for my feelings and I looked at him and decided that his name did not fit how he was dressed.
“I’m going to have to call you by a girl’s name when you have panties on,” I told him.
Tony was embarrassed and blushed at this, although he did not put up much of a fight – his protests were very half-hearted as I recall. Anyway, I decided he was not a Susan or a Mary or a Jessica – that was his mother’s name, so too close to home. Samantha just popped into my head; that could be shortened to Sam to tease him in front of others if I wished, having a wicked streak in me at times.
Tony now had a girl’s name when he wore panties: little did I know at the time, he loved to dress more than he shared when we first met.
-o-0-o-
Over the coming years we had a family – four children, well three really; just that Tony is such a big kid at times it’s like there is a fourth child, playing with his toys, only they were not toys of the normal kind, they were women’s clothing. Not just underwear, dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes… he had quite a diverse collection when I discovered how often he was dressing.
I even found a make-up bag with some cosmetics in a jacket pocket in the wardrobe he had hidden away – well, I get to look, I am his wife – and confronted him about it. His answer was that Christmas was around the corner and he was putting away presents for me. This proved to be true and I did get the make-up as a gift; however, the eyeshadow had changed to one that I preferred, with no sign of the other one I had previously noticed. I wondered what happened to that one.
Over the years Tony would buy clothes, sometimes with my knowledge, more often without, to such an extent he now has more clothes than I do and that is saying something, as he is meant to be my husband and not my girlfriend.
Around this time the children started to notice Dad ducking in the bedroom when they passed the door as he was dressing in his girls’ clothes and it got to the point they were asking me questions.
“It’s your problem, you tell them,” I confronted him, but he could not see it as a problem.
Eventually he did share with them that he enjoyed dressing in women’s clothing; our daughter more understanding and he even shared with her that his female name was Samantha.
All our lives changed in a dramatic way when I became seriously ill. This resulted in a major operation and a longish stay in hospital, with many more stays over recent years.
Tony did a lot of travelling up and down to the hospital as well as looking after the children. The youngest was still in high school; the older children were more able to look after themselves.
During one of the hospital visits I noticed a brownish mark on his jacket which he claimed was dirt He got a ‘pull the other leg’ look – it was obviously make-up.
“We’ll talk about this later,” I told him, my tone of voice indicating there would be no argument to that.
Eventually we had the chat about him dressing and the need to be more aware of the feelings of others – ‘others’ being the immediate family. It turned out I was correct about the mark I had noticed and he had gone out from the hotel the night before ‘dressed to kill’ as he was bored without me around.
Having his Samantha clothes with him he went out; of course, he did not have a lady’s coat with him and had not noticed the makeup stain on his male jacket.
Tony eventually said that it was time that I should meet Samantha fully.
I was, of course, aware of Samantha, I had even helped decide on her name. Did I really want to meet HER, fully dressed? The idea thrilled and frightened in the same moment.
“I’ve seen you dressed,” I said.
“No, you have not,” he replied, “not fully.”
“What do you mean by not fully? I’ve seen that blue suit with the matching tie…”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” he interrupted. “I mean fully as Samantha.”
“I know what you meant,” my voice raised in frustration at him, “and I’m not ready, and not sure I ever will be,”
Almost every time we go away, no not almost, EVERY time we go away for a few days he has a bag or suitcase with his girl clothes packed. Initially he would try to hide the bag by putting in in the boot, often the evening before the rest of the cases were packed.
Eventually I noticed the extra bag and pulled him up on it, informing him I knew what he was up to and not to hide it. Eventually I asked how much of Samantha would be coming with us and was told “as much as ‘she’ could get away with.”
His stubbornness was getting more and more entrenched regarding wanting Samantha and me to meet.
-o-0-o-
I had another couple of appointments for hospital check-ups, thankfully none of these involved being an in-patient and every time ‘she’ was with us.
Don’t misunderstand me, I love Tony with all my heart and, I suppose, ‘her’ as well, though obviously not in the same way as him. I often feel that Samantha wants to be here more than Tony; despite his denials, I believe that to be true.
Tony does not wish to become Samantha full time, as he has never expressed any indication of being a woman in the wrong body, just the enjoyment of dressing in female clothing. Samantha has told me when she is dressed she is more relaxed and calmer than her male side.
I was used to men being violent and ready to lift their hands to get what they wanted: my dad and brothers did this on a regular basis. Tony never lifted his hands, so this was a new experience to me.
Remembering during our first major argument we had early in our marriage Tony lifted his hand to push his hair back or something like that, and I backed away as I thought he was about to smack me one. He noticed the recall and asked if I thought he had been going to hit me.
“I would never do that,” he told me. “My mum and dad brought me up not to do that, but to respect others and not to use violence, it solves nothing. If I were to do that,” he added, “I would be the first to pack my bags and leave.”
To this day, Tony has never lifted his hands to me or the family; we’ve had our arguments, like most of us, and not once has he been abusive or violent. Another reason why I love this man deeply.
Deciding to grant his request to meet Samantha I set down some conditions: it had to be away from the family and not in our home town. We decided to use the hotel that we stayed at when I had to go for check-ups. We reserved two rooms on this occasion, and as we checked in, he to his room and I to mine, we turned to each other with a nervous smile.
“See you later,” we said at the same time.
The door closed behind me and I looked around the room: nothing fancy, just a normal hotel room. I wondered what the night was going to bring, what my Tony was going to look like as Samantha. After all these years I knew he dressed; sometimes I encouraged, probably more than I should have, yet at times I actively discouraged.
Now we were on a countdown to me meeting Samantha in person, in no more than four hours.
That four hours felt like an eternity: each hour dragged, and eventually I switched on the television to try and settle myself.
There was a programme on called “Coming Out”. It was tale about a married man who had an up and down relationship with his wife, and one day arrived home to find a bag of intimate underwear from Ann Summers. He and his wife had arranged a candlelit dinner and she did not have the underwear on, so he asked her why not. The wife did not have a clue what he was taking about, so he found the empty bag and showed it to her. Their son appeared from his room, his attention drawn by the raised voices and saw the bag in his dad’s hands.
“Dad!” he shouted to get his attention, “That’s not Mum’s bag… it’s mine.”
‘Just what I needed, today of all days’, I thought, turning off the TV in nervous frustration.
Just before eight pm – I was late and knew this – I had a check in the mirror, took a deep breath to help steady the nerves and went to knock on Samantha’s room.
I held back and thought ‘do I really want to meet Tony as Samantha?’ Yes and no kept running around my head, and I almost returned to my room. Samantha and Tony are one and the same individual, yet you could say there was now another woman in our lives.
No backing out now girl, get a grip, take a deep breath, and get this over and done with. Before I could lose my nerve, I knocked on Tony’s door. At first it was a soft knock almost as if I did not wish the door to open, then a heavier knock that I was sure the whole corridor heard.
Samantha opened the door to allow his Wife to enter.
“So, you’re the woman my husband is involved with,” I whispered.
As ‘she’ closed the door behind us, I added, “Samantha, we need to talk…”
The Other Woman – Part 6
Continuing the story of how a wife meets the other woman in their lives, who happens to be her husband.
This story dedicated to my friend and fellow author Warm Hearted, who has called me his cheerleader. We have become good friends and confidants, sharing comments and ideas on our stories as well as messaging and emailing each other regularly.
I can never find the proper words to say thanks to my editor and friend Chris, who finds the time in a very busy life to review my ramblings with comments and insights. Chris continues to edit for others as well as writing and posting his own stories.
All comments are welcome as we never stop learning and improving, thank you for taking the time.
Please remember this story is mostly fiction with some real events in our lives to hang the story on to and give it a base of realism
--------------------------------------------------------------------
JJ had eventually given in to Tony`s persistent requests to meet Samantha face to face. Both were nervous, as when the door opened, JJ was wondering if she would see an overly made-up husband and Samantha was still having doubts as to why she had forced this meeting.
Deep down it was a compulsion Samantha could not control: to stop hiding her disguise, to be free… to self-destruct, very possibly.
JJ was surprised: the image before her was of a woman, a real person, seeing no sign of the real person underneath, her husband. It was not a parody, not a clown… there stood a mature woman, suitably dressed, and made up.
Was Samantha not just as real as Tony? In his eyes, this was certainly true; not just the eyes, but the whole body as well. Was it just possible for her to become as real for JJ?
Samantha had hoped for this to be true.
The door closed, cutting off her chance to pull out of the meeting as the silence between them grew – only the soft music reached their ears.
Taken a deep breath, JJ softly voiced, “You wanted to talk about this,” both her arms and hands fanned out indicating to Samantha, “so talk.”
-o-O-o-
A new day dawns chasing the shadows of the evening to memory.
Not much talking occurred.
There was lots of petting and an intimacy more satisfying than with Tony while being his male self; Samantha had satisfied her more completely than Tony usually did and JJ was more uncertain than ever.
Trying to get her head around these feelings, Samantha remained en femme as went to freshen up and dress for their talk.
Shortly both had dressed rather differently.
JJ was wearing black jeans with pink and white striped trainers, a mauve coloured blouse open at the collar to reveal her cleavage and a greyish thigh length half cardigan half coat with its belt loosely looped round her waist. As per her usual appearance, she wore the very minimum amount of makeup.
Samantha was all femininity, in the way that most cross-dressers emulate. Her skirt was calf length, in faux leather, with a side slit for ease of walking. She wore black shoes with a two-inch wedge heel, while her legs were encased in her favourite Cuban heeled red seamed stockings, most certainly attached to one of her many suspender belts. A white see-through blouse with a rose pattern, revealing her bra underneath, completed her outfit.
Her makeup was suitable for daytime, with soft grey eyeshadow in three shades – lighter at the eye and darker towards the eyebrows – allowing her light blue eyes to sparkle more than normal; black mascara aided with the sparkle as well.
Her face bore a light foundation and powder, with some blusher to highlight her cheeks. Her lips were coral red, with nail polish to match. Clip-on long earrings and a mixed brown-blonde soft wave wig completed the overall all picture.
-o-O-o-
JJ popped the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door
“Now we won’t be disturbed by housekeeping,” she said, looking at Samantha as she sat down, “so let’s talk.”
Nervously, Samantha sat on a chair, smoothing her skirt to avoid creases – so naturally, it was difficult for JJ to remember that it was her husband and not a real woman.
“I felt it was time for us to meet face to face”, Samantha started nervously “My female side that is. Now we have, I’m not sure it was right to do so.”
“Well, we have and that can’t be changed,” JJ responded.
“As much as you look acceptable, I have to be honest – I much prefer my husband to be dressed as a male.”
“Now we’ve finally got to meet and you’ve been honest about how you feel, I think it’s better that I change back into Tony`s clothes, to stop you feeling uncomfortable”,
Samantha softly whispered.
“Look”, JJ said as she looked at her husband, “I love you, Tony,” putting the emphasise on TONY, “but as my husband, not as my girlfriend, nor as a woman at all. I’m very aware of your female side – after all, I had a hand in her birth, at a time in my life when it was required, but that’s behind me.”
Tony just looked back.
‘My female side was there before we started dating,’ he thought, ‘JJ only helped name that side of my personality.
From where I stand, those demons are still in the background.’
“I’ll get changed while you go and pack things in your room,” Samantha said. When you return, Samantha will be gone and Tony will be back.”
Tony had taken a chance by pushing JJ to meet Samantha, and it could have gone worse: at least she appeared to take the meeting well and they were still talking – for the moment.
-o-O-o-
JJ closed the door behind her, taking time to gather her thoughts on the recent happenings from the moment the other room door opened.
Admittedly JJ had been hesitant to enter: knowing her husband dressed was one thing, seeing was very something different. Everyone ‘dressed’, she knew, a small smile coming across her lips at the thought, but this was her husband, all done up to the nines in women’s clothing.
She did not look bad at all; ‘she’, as JJ could not see any sign of Tony. In her own mind that was disconcerting. Just now much dressing had he done over the years? More than JJ was aware of, she suspected.
-o-O-o-
Returning to the other room, JJ was pleased to find that Tony had reappeared with no sign of Samantha. All the bags and suitcases were packed ready for them to leave.
JJ sat down and waited; Tony looked perplexed, he had obviously thought they were leaving right away.
“Tony, sit down. We have not finished talking. Well, maybe ‘talking’ is incorrect – I have some questions,” JJ stated as Tony sat down, “and you will answer them.”
“Where did you learn to dress as well as you do?” JJ asked.
“I know it was not from me.”
“A lot of practice and a hell of a lot of mistakes,” Tony smiled as he responded. “I have trouble with getting the hips correct so try to work with skirts and dresses that hide this.”
“I did notice your hips weren’t quite right. Look, I’m afraid you won’t get any encouragement from me,” JJ stated in a firm tone. “You already know I prefer my husband to be my husband.”
“Yes, but…”
“No ‘buts’, Tony”, interrupted JJ. “You know how I feel about your dressing – ‘out of sight, out of mind’ is just manageable, and even that’s starting to become between us.”
“What do you mean, ‘coming between us’?” Tony responded. “No it’s not.”
“Yes, it is and you know it. It’s gone way beyond a ‘stress relief from work’ thing.” JJ raised her voice, something she rarely did. “How often when it’s time to go to bed do you wear a nightie? When was the last time you wore PJs? Male ones, I mean, not the female ones. Heavens above, Tony, you have more bloody female clothes than I do and I’m the female in the marriage, NOT YOU. What do you want, Tony, and I mean really want?” Tony was not sure how to answer her.
“I want us to be happy,” he replied after a long pause. “I want to be your husband and at times your girlfriend.”
“Forget it Tony,” JJ shouted, “it’s never going to happen. Last night, GIRLFRIEND, was a one off, never to happen again – NEVER, do you understand that? I was uncomfortable last night. I only met Samantha in full to please you, not me. Yes we were intimate, but that intimacy should be between husband and wife.” JJ stopped to take a deep breath. “I like women for company, for retail therapy, for lunches, etc – not to have sex with.”
“That is just not how I swing,” she continued, “and you should know that. I have no problems with people being gay or lesbian or transgendered. They have a right to be live their lives as they wish, although the world is very polarised in its views. This is not about the rest of the world, though, is it? This about you, me and the children”
“What about the children?” Tony asked, looking up to meet his wife’s eyes. “They seem okay with Dad’s dressing – Linda even buys me cosmetics.”
“Yes, she does, but the boys are not as supportive.”
“Well,” Tony said more loudly than intended, “we both know that our older boy is like me and has a feminine side.”
“He is like you,” JJ conceded, “but we have not embarrassed him about our suspicions by asking or indicating that we suspect and anyway, it’s not the children we are talking about, it’s YOU, so stop avoiding the issue.”
Tony just stared at her before answering.
“I’m not avoiding the issue, I’m trying to get you to know Samantha better. However, I now realise that you don’t wish to see her and will accept that decision, although it’s not going to be easy not to dress up.”
“I’m not asking you to stop dressing,” JJ voiced in despair.
“I’m asking you to consider my feelings. After all these years, I know it would to be difficult to stop. Tony I need to ask this… are you gay or bisexual, and have you been faithful to throughout our marriage?”
“Yes, I have been faithful,” he replied. “I am not gay and neither is Samantha.”
“I believe that you’ve been faithful,” JJ started to say, then caught what Tony had said. “What do you mean, ‘neither has Samantha’? What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that Tony is straight and so is Samantha,”
“I think you better explain yourself” JJ shouted at her husband, clearly getting angry.
“Okay, if that’s what you want,” Tony sighed. “Tony is straight mostly – please JJ don’t interrupt me,”he added, as JJ was about to ask what ‘mostly’ meant.
Not wanting to see JJ’s face as he spoke, Tony stared at his hands, noticing that he had missed some nail polish.
‘Stop that,’ he thought, ‘other things first.’
“Before we got serious and started courting each other, I had a fling, for want of a better description, with another member of staff at the hotel we worked in… a male member of staff, that is. It was adolescent curiosity about a relationship with some one of the same sex – most of us do this at some time. Anyway, for a few weeks we were a secret item, sleeping with each other, yes sleeping, and not being too intimate: we kissed and cuddled and even sucked each other off, but never penetrate each other until later.”
JJ was about to say something until Tony held his hand up to stop her.
“In the end, he took employment on the other side of the country and I did not see him for a couple of years. By this time we had married and were looking for a home of our own as the Staff quarters were not suitable. He turned up unexpectedly, I can’t remember why now, and both of us were surprised to see each other. Well, we ended up in bed with him on top of me sliding up and down on my cock until I came in him. He did not return the favour to me and I have not seen him since. I suppose you could say that Tony is bi after having sex with another male, although it was only the once and that was years ago,” Tony concluded.
“You had sex with a male after we married and you don’t think that’s being unfaithful?” JJ shouted, her anger no longer restrained and tears streaming down her face.
“You’re unbelievable, you really are, you know that? I suppose you better explain about Samantha being ‘straight’.”
Tony froze to the spot, not having ever seen JJ so angry before.
It was going downhill rapidly. Why did he have to tell her about that fling? It was many years ago.
“Samantha is straight as well and does not fancy woman; in her mind, she is only interested in men. I did say in her mind – her body, however, may have different ideas. When you were not well and I was travelling up and down the road, I took some of Samantha’s clothing with me, when I knew you were improving and when overnighting in the hotel. Remember you saw the mark on my jacket at visiting time and I said it was dirt? In fact it was a make-up stain. You were correct, I had been dressing the evening before, and during the days when visiting was evenings only.”
Tony looked at JJ in anticipation to her reaction.
“Anything else you need to share?” Her voice was sharp, cutting through him like a bandsaw.
“One night I was driving home, dressed as Samantha. I had changed in the hospital toilets and took the opportunity to insert a butt plug in as well… I know, I know,” noticing the deep frown on his wife’s face. “There’s no law that says I can’t drive in woman’s clothing, as long as it’s not for illegal purposes. Well, I got a big scare, as a police car was behind me with all his lights on and stopping me, as I thought, so I stopped at the next layby and they just carried on by. I got out and had a walk around and another car appeared. The driver came over to chat, saying that I was the kind of girl he liked, showing he was aware I was male.
“Well, let’s just say Samantha’s interest was piqued about having intercourse while dressed as a woman, and agreed but only if protection was used. Deftly removing her plug as her suitor put on protection, Samantha bent over a fallen tree stump as she felt his cock slide into her willing rear. The sensation was not as bad as she had feared due to the butt-plug already opening her love hole.
“That is it all I have to say apart from the inclinations as to how I feel as I genuinely feel and think when Samantha is dressed she feels and acts feminine attracted to males and likewise Tony feels masculine when dressed and only attracted to females. Therefore, both are straight depending on how they dress.”
Tony looked at JJ and knew right there and then that their marriage was going to be very different from now on.
Tony was correct in that reasoning.
-o-O-o-
Because of Tony’s revelations, Joanna will not answer to JJ, her pet name, any more.
Joanna and Anthony stay married and in the same house, due to one of their wedding vows shared in front of witnesses and in church: “Until death do us part.”