When Mike's wife, Sue, wins a weekend break for one in Scotland, it suited both of them that Mike should go instead. The problem was that the organisers wouldn't let her change the name on the ticket. Fortunately, Sue had a ready solution: Mike could simply pretend to be her.

Things may have been less eventful if Sue hadn't purchased such a large pair of false breasts for him. As it was, the new Mrs Susan Martin found she had a number of admirers, to whom she had great difficulty in saying, 'No.'

This story contains adult themes, and is entirely fictional.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: My very first Big Bust story was published in 2002, and products from the Big Bust shop have continued to feature in many of my stories ever since. Set in the fictional English seaside town of Seacombe, Big Busts products are considered state of the art by men who want to look like women, even when naked.

To celebrate Big Busts' tenth year, I have decided to republish all my Big Busts' stories which are not already on Big Closet, which I'll do at intervals throughout the year. The stories are not being published in chronological order, but are intended to give a mix of different types.

Like most of my stories, this is meant to be out and out fun (and I don't think there's enough of it on this site). Whether you're a new reader of my stories, or you have read them before, I hope you sit back and enjoy, without becoming too serious about it all.

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The Long Weekend
by Marianne Nettes

CHAPTER 1

'Hi Mike, it's me.'

I was surprised. Sue had a pretty frantic job as a Personal Assistant to the MD of a marketing company, and she rarely had time to call me at home during the day.

'Hi, darling. How are things?'

'I just won a short break in Scotland, for this weekend. Do you fancy going?'

'Are you sure it's not one of these tricks? You know, you get there and then find you've got free accommodation, but have to pay for food at inflated prices.'

'Nope. It's genuine, alright — first class rail travel to Glasgow, road transfer to the hotel, three nights' accommodation, from Friday to Sunday, all meals included, and wine with the evening meal. It's at a place called Hunters Lodge, near Loch Lomond. Have you heard of it?'

'I'll look it up. How did you win it?'

'Do you remember that survey I completed at work, a few weeks ago? I moaned about it to you, because it took up so much of my time. They told me the best responses would be entered in a draw for a free holiday, but I didn't take too much notice. I got a letter in the post today.'

'And it's for two people?'

'Uh-uh. It's only meant to be for me, but this weekend I'm going on that conference in Birmingham, so I couldn't go anyway. And you know a long weekend in Scotland would be absolute purgatory for me. But you'd love it, wouldn't you? You could go out walking every day.'

It was true that Sue and I had wildly different tastes. Sue loved the bright lights and hectic pace of city living, which is why we lived in south London, whereas I couldn't wait to get out into the country, and breathe fresh air.

It was also true that I hated it when she went away on all too frequent weekend conferences. It was bad enough that she worked long hours during the week, leaving me at home as a househusband — one of the casualties of the financial crash. But at the weekend, especially Sundays, I really disliked being alone. So a couple of days walking in Scotland, whilst she was away at her conference, sounded a pretty good deal all round.

'Will you be able to change the name to mine?'

'Course I can.'

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

So, even though it was only Tuesday, I got out my walking trousers and anorak, and stuck them in the washing machine, and located my walking boots, and gave them a good polish. I found an OS map of the area, and found Hunters Lodge — on the edge of a tiny loch, a few miles from one of the remote parts of Loch Lomond. I traced out all the footpaths, and by the time Sue had come home that evening, I'd plotted my two days of walks, with options and escape routes, in case of bad weather.

I showed them to her, and she politely smiled, as she handed over the information pack.

'Were they alright about changing the name?'

'Oh God! They're complete bureaucrats. Said the prize was non-transferable, and I had to be the recipient.'

'What! You mean I can't go!' I was all too aware I sounded like a little child denied a treat, but to be honest, that's exactly how I felt.

'Of course you can. All you have to do is say that you are me.'

'That's ridiculous!' I pointed at the name on the literature. 'How can I say my name is Mrs Susan Martin?'

Sue shrugged, and smiled that impish grin that had first attracted me to her. 'Well, it's only checking into a hotel under someone else's name. It's hardly as though they're going to give you a medical examination, is it?'

'Don't be stupid, Sue. I'm not going to wear a skirt and high heels, thank you very much.'

She laughed at the thought. 'It's you that's being stupid. It's a walking holiday, not a Vicars and Tarts' Party. If I was going walking in Scotland, do you think I'd be wearing skirt and high heels? I'd probably arrive wearing jeans and sweater, exactly the same as I'd have thought you would have worn.'

'Sue, you may wear the same type of clothes, but there's no way people will believe that I'm a woman.'

'Mike, if you really want to stay at home this weekend, instead of walking over cold, wet, Scottish countryside, then that's fine with me. But I thought you desperately wanted to go on this holiday. All it would take are a few simple changes to your appearance for you to make a very passable woman.'

I paused and considered. 'It's not really that easy, Sue. I mean, I'm totally the wrong shape.'

Another impish smile from her. 'You've just expressed a view shared by ninety per cent of women. I think you're well on the way to having the right mind set, and as any actor will tell you, that's the biggest hurdle.'

She saw I wasn't convinced, so she continued, 'You say you're the wrong shape, but what is the right shape. How does your shape need to change so you look like a woman?'

'Breasts.'

'Oh that's a typical response from a man. Look, there are lots of women with miniscule or non-existent breasts, right?'

I nodded agreement.

'So if someone doesn't have any noticeable breasts, do you automatically assume they are men?'

'Well… no.'

'Exactly. So if a woman's shape isn't typified by the breast, what is it typified by?'

I thought hard. 'Well, I dunno, really. They just look like women.'

'Arse!'

For a second I thought she was calling me one, but she amplified her statement, 'Women have big arses, and big hips. Right?'

'I suppose so. But they're always trying to reduce them in size, so doesn't the ideal woman have a small arse?'

'We're not trying to make you into the ideal woman. You're not competing for Miss World. We want you to look like an ordinary woman, who won't be noticed by a suspicious receptionist. In other words, you need a big arse.'

I wasn't convinced, so she took me upstairs, told me to take off my jeans, and then made me squeeze into a long legged panty girdle. But just before I pulled it over my bottom, she folded a couple of towels and stuffed them down the sides and rear. It was so packed that I could only just pull my jeans back over my hips, and had to wriggle them from side to side to get them up. I thought the zip would burst when I pulled it up, but when I looked in the mirror I was gob-smacked. There were the curvaceous hips and thighs of a woman!

'Hmm. Not bad. But I think you need some better padding. These towels are not smooth enough. They've rucked up at the back. But you have to admit, they make the difference.'

'Maybe to my body, but it doesn't alter my face.'

She stared critically at it. 'The beard will have to go, of course, but it will grow again easily enough, and I bet underneath it, your face is as soft as a baby's bottom. Your hair is long enough to be styled into something quite passable. You know, Mike, I think we're almost there. The question is, do you want to give it a try, and go on this holiday, or simply sit at home and vegetate whilst I'm away at the conference?'

I considered. Scotland was awfully tempting, and really, what was the worst that could happen? People might suspect that the rather boring looking woman in the hotel was rather too mannish and was really a bloke. As Sue said, they were hardly in a position to prove it, were they? They couldn't force me to have a medical examination.

'OK,' I said. 'I'll give it a go.'

CHAPTER 2

The next evening, Sue came home loaded with packages.

'I found a shop which sells just what you need,' she said, pulling what looked like a pair of flesh-coloured knickers out of a plastic bag, and holding them up in the air. 'Very realistic.'

She turned them round so I could see them from the front. There was a patch of dark pubic hair at the crutch. They weren't knickers — more like a false arse and thighs, with a hairy cunt.

She giggled at my expression. 'It's a Hiplet. I'm told it looks — and works — just like the real thing, even if someone catches you having a pee in the middle of a field. In these, you have to squat down like a woman.'

God! I hadn't even thought about trying to keeping up the pretence of being a woman whilst on a walk, and having to take a piss, en-route, but Sue obviously had. From our previous experiences, I remembered she had been less than happy with that particular aspect of country walking.

'It also keeps your manhood under control. No nasty erections every time you see a piece of crumpet. Perhaps you should wear it all the time.' Another giggle. 'No seriously, I'm pretty certain once you're have them on, it will be pretty difficult for anyone to tell the difference, even if you are caught with your trousers down.'

This seemed to be taking the pretence a bit too far, but I had to admit, when I tried them on, they provided a much smoother and rounder line to my figure than the towels had done, the previous evening. When I stood with my back to a mirror, and twisted my neck to view myself, I realised I had one enormous arse, with hips probably about nine inches wider than normal. Unable to see my head reflected in the mirror, I would have been certain I was looking at the rear of a woman's torso. With my hair modified a little, I reckoned I would make a very passable woman.

'OK, take them off. Let's get your hairy body defoliated.'

'There's no need to do that. I was just going to shave my beard.'

'If anyone does see you with your trousers down, they'll wonder why you have more hairs than an orang-utan on your lower legs, but which stop at the knee, where your false arse starts. Come on, I've bought a large pack of wax. Get naked, and we'll make a start.'

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

I will never understand why women put up with that kind of pain instead of using a razor. Can you imagine your skin being flayed from your body? Well that's what being waxed is like — every hair slowly and painfully ripped from your skin. Mind you, at the end of it, my skin was as smooth as that proverbial baby's bottom, even my beardless chin. I hoped it wouldn't be too long after the weekend before my beard would re-grow. There are limits as to how far I was prepared to go for this farce.

After Sue had spent ages washing and then styling my hair, I had to admit I was impressed. OK, I was no great beauty, but I certainly looked like the kind of woman you pass in the street, every day, without noticing — quite big, but without being obese.

Sue had bought several pairs of jeans and tee shirts of different sizes, from Marks & Spencer's, so she could take back those that didn't fit. I told her I didn't need anything special — I would simply squeeze into my old things, but she always would buy clothes on any excuse, and this was more than good enough.

Unfortunately, she hadn't estimated my new size very well, and nothing seemed to properly fit. With my enlarged hips, there was no way I could squeeze into my existing jeans, so we were both a little dissatisfied at the end of it. She put all the clothes back into their original packaging, and we agreed she would have another shopping expedition tomorrow.

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

Surprisingly, I was really looking forward to Sue's arrival home on Thursday evening, with my new clothes, so I was quite perturbed when she rang to say she'd be late home.

'Sorry, love, but the MD is getting in a panic about the launch next week, especially with me being away at the conference this weekend. He's called a complete review, starting at seven pm, so it's likely to go on until at least nine. I'll give you a call when I finish. Incidentally, I've bought you some super clothes.'

Why did my heart give a little leap of pleasure at the thought? Sue was always complaining I was never interested in clothes, and yet for the next three hours I was aching for her call. When it came, it was to say the meeting was still continuing — they had only paused for a few minutes to take a comfort break.

'It looks like it's going to be at least midnight before I get home. I know you have an early start in the morning, so why don't you get to bed now, and we'll both get up early in the morning and you can try on the new clothes, then?'

I grumbled a bit, but it seemed the best compromise, so I went to bed.

CHAPTER 3

'I decided to get you some false breasts after all.'

'But I thought you told me I didn't need them — that lots of women have miniscule breasts.'

'I know, but I think it was because you were so bottom heavy that the clothes I brought home on Wednesday didn't look so good. I took some advice from the shop where I bought your false arse, and they suggested you should try some. They had so many kinds and sizes, I had trouble deciding which to buy, but I got these in the end.' She withdrew a single quivering breast from a bag, cupped in both hands.

'God, it's enormous!'

'I thought you'd be pleased. You always said you liked large breasts. Don't you remember, you kept suggesting I should get an enhancement?'

'That doesn't mean to say… Oh, never mind. I can't wear that.'

'But I've bought a load of clothes which should fit you. And I really can't see the logic that says you like large breasts on me but small ones for you. Anyway, it can't do any harm to just try them.'

I was fascinated the way the breast wobbled with every movement of her hand, like a plateful of jelly, and the way the large nipples poked upwards. I wondered what it would be like to have two of those stuck on my chest.

'I suppose I could give them a try.'

'Attaboy. These are the top of the range models, so you shouldn't have any problems with them. There's a separate adhesive, which I have to spread on first, and let dry.'

She spread it on, and we left it dry, whilst I pulled on my false arse and fumbled about with my cock until it was in the right position inside.

Over the top of my Hiplet, I pulled on the sexy little knickers that Sue had bought ('They'll see the knicker line through your trousers,' she had said, 'so you'll have to wear proper knickers.'), and tried on the selection of jeans until I found a pair that fitted really well. I put on some ankle-sox and found a pair of the plain, black, low-heeled shoes, which were not at all painful to wear. I looked in the mirror. I had to admit, from the waist down, I looked bloody authentic.

'OK, let's get on with these.' Sue took the left breast in her hand and carefully positioned it over my nipple, pressed it against my chest and smoothed it down.

'There you are. Just hold that in place whilst the adhesive sets, and I'll fix the other one.'

I grasped the soft quivering breast. Jesus, if only I'd met a girl with breasts like these!

'OK, hold this one in place with your other hand. I think I've probably guessed the right bra size, but I've bought a couple of other sizes, just in case.'

In fact, she'd guessed right at a 42 DD, which sounded pretty big, but it was only when I pulled a tee shirt over my head, and I glanced down, that their true enormity became apparent.

'God! I can't go about with these. They're huge.'

'But Mike, you're tall and broad shouldered, which is why we had to give you the wide hips. Everything about your body looks in the right proportion, now.'

'Sorry, Sue, no way. I'm going to take them off.'

'Suit yourself, but you'd better hurry up. The taxi will be here at any minute.'

A horn tooting outside indicated the accuracy of her forecast. I hurriedly tugged at the join of breast and skin.

'Ouch! That's stuck fast.'

'Look, don't bother to take them off now; otherwise you're going to miss your train. Get your train into the city and then go into the toilets at Kings Cross Station and remove them there.' She brushed my hair a little, and pushed and pulled it about a little. 'There, you look perfect. Slip on your anorak, and off you go.'

I was about to argue with her, but her logic was indisputable. If I missed the train into London, I would subsequently miss the Glasgow train, and with it my chance of the holiday. Out of the corner of my eye, I could also see myself in the mirror, and there was no doubt about my proportions being exactly right. I really looked quite a dish. An angry beeping came from the taxi, so I put on my anorak and dashed down the stairs.

'I bought a few extra items for you to wear in the hotel,' Sue said, as she passed me the suitcase, and added with her grin, 'just in case you're feeling adventurous. I packed them in your suitcase last night.'

Vowing to not even look at them when I got to the hotel, I grabbed the suitcase and went out the door.

CHAPTER 4

When I arrived at Kings Cross, I almost went marching straight into the men's toilets! It was only the man coming through the door in the opposite direction, who stared at my tits as he finished buttoning his flies, that stopped me.

'The Ladies are over there, luv.' He pointed, and added under his breath, 'and I bet you don't get many of those to the pound.'

Since leaving home, it was the third time I'd heard that same comment, along with at least a dozen others on a similar theme. To be honest, observations about the size of my breasts didn't upset me too much. The main problem was that the nipples were protruding like organ-stops — a fact which a number of men had remarked upon.

That really embarrassed me, since I had always associated such a state with a readiness for sex. So too, did many of my admirers, some of whom plainly expressed their desire to assist in giving me what I so obviously needed.

I abruptly turned and headed in the direction he indicated, but then paused as I approached. Until now, I had done nothing illegal, but if I entered those toilets, I would be stepping over a line which could result in my accommodation for the next few days being significantly different from that which I had planned — in jail! Far better to wait until I'd boarded the train and then go into the unisex toilet on board.

As a strategy, that was fine. The problem was that the train was late coming in, and only arrived a couple of minutes before it was due to depart. Consequently, I had to hang about on the concourse, getting all manner of comments and offers. Then I had to dash, with hundreds of others, onto the train before it left without me.

Fortunately, I had a reserved, first-class seat. Unfortunately, within ten seconds of locating it, there were at least half a dozen blokes all offering to help me put my suitcase up on the luggage rack. I almost automatically refused their offers, but just in time, I realised they'd all be ogling my boobs as I stretched up to do it myself. So I let the tallest guy help, who then promptly took it as an excuse to sit down opposite me and start chatting me up.

He was in his mid-twenties, and he was so good looking that, when I was a bloke, I'd have taken an instant dislike to him. As it was, I felt rather elated that he'd chosen me to talk to. The other guys who'd offered to help, all took seats a short distance away, where they could keep a discrete eye on me (and presumably, my boobs).

Of course, I then realised my strategy was totally blown, since I could hardly disappear off to the toilet, and return five minutes later without my tits. Damn! I'd have to wait until a few minutes before the train came into Glasgow, and then go to the toilet and dispense with my tits. Hopefully, by the time I came out, my travelling companions would have disappeared. In the meantime, I had almost six hours of blokes staring at my tits and trying to engage me in conversation.

Over the last two days, realising I would need to have a passable female voice, I had spent many hours practising with a tape recorder. I had developed a reasonable tone, but I'd mainly concentrated upon phrases like, 'I'm Susan Martin. Can I check in?' I certainly wasn't equipped to discuss my favourite type of theatre or restaurant, which is what the tall guy wanted to talk about. I struggled for a while, but then it seemed to get a bit easier with practice. In fact, by the time they called the first serving of lunch, I was quite happy for the two of us to go to the restaurant together.

By this time, I'd realised the advantage, for a woman with breasts like mine, of having a male companion. Blokes still looked at me, of course, but in a much more subtle way, and no longer as though I was easy pickings, just because I had huge tits, with protruding nipples. They would still give me the eye, if they thought my companion couldn't see, but I felt much more secure.

'Damn it!' I thought. 'I've only been a woman for four hours, and already I'm using blokes to provide me with security.'

The real bad news came as the meal was drawing to an end, when Jason, for that was his name, revealed he had won a long weekend break at Hunters Lodge. My heart sank. I would now be forced to keep company with my breasts for the whole of my holiday! Damn! Damn! Damn!

But I didn't let my annoyance show, as I gaily told Jason that I, too, had won the break and was on my way to Hunters Lodge.

'I wondered whether there'd be any other prize winners on the train,' he said. 'I know there were several winners.'

'Oh great,' I said. 'That means there'll be plenty of people to walk with.'

'Walk?'

'Well, why else would anyone go to a hotel in the wilds of Scotland, in the middle of March?'

'Didn't you read the leaflet?' I shook my head. 'It's only one of the best places to stay in the UK — and they get very stroppy if you call it a hotel. You're going to Hunters Lodge as a house guest. There's a cordon-bleu chef, a butler and personal maid service.' He added with a grin, 'That's the bit I'm looking forward to — at least it was, until I met you.'

'Gerroff.'

'No seriously, there's an indoor pool, sauna, gym and massage parlour. You name it — they've got it. They don't serve meals in a restaurant; they hold dinner parties that last into the early hours of the morning, and breakfasts they serve until midday. In the afternoon, perhaps a little shooting or riding — the kind with horses I mean, and then it's time to get dressed for dinner again.'

His final words brought home a suspicion that had gradually being forming in my mind. This was no walkers' hotel, where people slouched about in jeans and sweaters. We'd all be wearing dinner jackets and… evening dresses!

The words went crashing through my mind. Disaster loomed. It would have been bad enough if I'd gone to Hunters Lodge as a male, with all the wrong clothes, and meeting snotty-nosed people whose idea of a long walk was the ten yards from their front door to their Jaguar. But to do all that disguised as a female would lead to total exposure. I'd be…

'Are you alright? You're looking a bit pasty.' Jason was looking at me with real concern in his eyes.

'Well, I… I didn't realise it was that kind of holiday. I was going for the walking, not for a luxury weekend break. I haven't got the right clothes, or anything.'

'That's alright. You'll look good in any clothes. Just wear what you've got.'

And have the total attention of the restaurant focussed upon me, masquerading as a woman!

'I don't really think so, thanks very much. I think I'd better…'

My words were cut short as the announcement came over the speaker system: 'Ladies and gentlemen. We are now approaching Glasgow station. Would passengers please ensure they have all their belongings with them before leaving the train. Thank you.'

'Come on Susan. We need to get our bags. Don't worry about Hunters Lodge. You'll be fine.'

CHAPTER 5

'I told you it would be fine, didn't I?'

We were seated in the back of an ancient Rolls Royce, winding its way through the Glasgow traffic. I had fully intended, after alighting at Glasgow, to immediately catch a train back to London, but Jason had grabbed my bag and led the way off the platform, where we had been met by a uniformed chauffeur.

My suitcase had smartly changed hands, and before I knew it, I was being shepherded into the Rolls. Now, we were together on the back seat, his thigh pressing against mine.

On top of everything else, I'd realised in the dining car that this was going to be a problem. Wearing my false arse, I had virtually no feelings along the outside of my thigh and my buttocks, because of the thickness of material.

So when Jason had reached under the table and slid his hand up the outside of my thigh, I hadn't even noticed. It was only when he slid it around to the inside of my legs that I realised exactly what he was up to.

I'd given his hand a sharp slap, and he'd laughed as he'd withdrawn it, but I didn't know how long he'd been caressing the outside of my thigh, without any objection on my part. Presumably, if later on in the holiday his hand started brushing my nipples, I'd have an even worse problem. I could see, I was going to have to keep my senses about me, with this guy around.

I twisted around in the seat to give a bit of space between us, and he smiled at me and settled comfortably into his corner. Within a few minutes, his eyes started to droop, his breathing became heavier, and he fell into a deep sleep. The smooth, quiet ride in the Rolls was soporific. I'd been travelling for well over seven hours by then, and I, too, felt sleep start to sweep over me. I snuggled into my corner, and deliberately put out of my mind all worries about what lay ahead.

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

It was the change in ride that awoke me. Not even the ultra-smooth suspension of the Rolls could hide the enormous potholes in the unmade road, which stretched up the hill ahead of us.

Feeling a weight upon my chest, I looked down. Jason's head rested on my right breast. His eyes were closed and his hair was tousled. For an instant, I wondered what it would be like to have an infant in that position, about to take nourishment from my breast. But it was only an instant before I regained commonsense. I swivelled my shoulder to throw his head off my breast, and it dropped with a satisfying clunk onto my knee.

'O-h-h-h! Fuck! That hurt.'

'Good.' He would get no sympathy from me. 'And don't try that again, buster. Especially when I'm asleep.'

'Well, you didn't object when I put it there. You said it was nice.'

There was no winning that kind of argument, so I didn't try, and there was a mutual silence between us, until the car reached the brow of the hill and the chauffeur said, 'That's Hunters Lodge next to the loch.'

From its name, I'd expected a tiny building, little more than a cabin, where hunters could rest overnight. So the mansion towering up by the side of the loch took me completely by surprise. It was huge. Why the hell hadn't I turned around at Glasgow station, and gone home?

We drove through an arched gate into a courtyard, and a butler in a formal black suit, and a maid in a black dress and frilly white apron waited by the entrance to the house. The chauffeur pulled the car to a halt beside them, leapt smartly out, and opened the door for us to alight.

'Good afternoon, sir. Good afternoon, madam.' The butler eyed with distaste my jeans and bulging, tee shirt covered tits, pushing through the open front of my anorak. 'My name is Jones, and this is Nicole, your room maid during your stay.'

She flashed us a nice smile. 'Welcome to Hunters Lodge. Mr Jones will show you to your room, sir, whilst I show the lady to hers.' She took my suitcase from the chauffeur, whilst Jones took Jason's, and led the way inside.

'It's this way, madam.'

Fortunately, she led me up a separate staircase to the one that Jones and Jason were taking. I felt I needed some space from Jason. I said as much to Nicole, and added, 'Please call me Susan.'

She smiled. 'Thanks Susan. Some of the guys can come on a bit heavy when they're staying here. You know, they think the normal rules don't apply.' At the top of the stairs was a small lobby with two bedrooms leading off it. Nicole pointed to one. 'This is your bedroom. I think you'll find it's very pretty.'

She opened the door and went in, and I followed her into a huge room, with a wooden floor with shag pile rugs scattered liberally about. In the centre was a four-poster bed, with lots of white lace cascading down from the canopy.

'Oh, it's beautiful Nicole.'

She smiled back at me. 'I'm glad you like it. Would you like me to unpack for you?'

I shrugged. 'I'm afraid I have a problem with my clothes. I didn't read the instructions properly and I haven't brought anything suitable. I really don't know what I'm going to do.'

Nicole lifted my suitcase onto a stand and opened it. 'Oh, I think this will be perfect,' she said. She held up a long black dress with a scoop neckline, and a long slit up the side. Fortunately, she was gazing at the dress rather than at me, so she didn't see my jaw gape open. 'It's beautiful,' she continued, 'it'll be perfect. Do you have anything else?'

How the hell did I know? On the other hand, I certainly knew someone who would — Sue! She'd known this was a posh do, and that I'd never have come if I had realised, so she'd kept it secret from me. I felt betrayed!

Nicole was now holding up a bright blue dress, covered with shimmering sequins. 'Oh yes. There's no need for you to worry about your clothes, at all. They're ideal. What about day wear?'

She looked into my suitcase and nodded approvingly, and opened a wardrobe and started to put the dresses onto hangers. Then she was opening drawers and putting in garments I hadn't seen before — indeed, I wasn't even certain I knew what they were!

'Oh, I think someone's slipped this in here, for you.' She handed me an envelope with 'Susan' written on the front, which she'd withdrawn from the side pocket of the suitcase. 'Dinner's at eight, and I really think your black dress would be superb for that. If you need any help, ring the bell. Otherwise, I'll see you at dinner.' And she was gone.

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

My darling

I saw right from the start how much you really wanted to come on this short break, but knowing how easily embarrassed you get, I was certain you'd refuse if I told you all the detail. Please forgive me, but this seemed a heaven sent opportunity for you to enjoy a fun weekend, whilst I have a hard grind at the conference.

I hope the clothes fit. I had fun choosing them. As long as you keep a cool head, I'm certain no one will find out about Mike. Have fun.

Love

XX

My anger subsided as I read Sue's note, which she'd been careful enough to phrase so that even if someone else read it, my secret would not be revealed.

I'd realised in the past that Sue sometimes felt guilty that, even when she was able to take time off from her busy job, she never wanted to walk in the countryside with me, and we always ended up doing what she wanted to do, which was usually shopping. But she'd gone to a lot of trouble to get me onto this holiday, when she could so easily have simply told me I wasn't allowed to go. I vowed I would make this holiday a success, and enjoy it to the full.

CHAPTER 6

Surprisingly, I really enjoyed that evening. I had chosen the black dress, as recommended by Nicole, and spent some considerable time getting prepared. I had intended to remove my false breasts before showering, but they appeared firmly attached to my chest, and not even a long shower loosened their grip. They were a slightly different colour to my own skin, and I dusted a little blusher across the join, which made them look as one with the rest of my own body.

Sue had included a teenager's make up kit, which was great because it included instruction on how to do it. I practised for ages, several times wiping the whole lot off and starting again, but in the end, I actually looked quite passable.

There was also a suspender belt and lacy-topped stockings which looked as though they were just the right length to be seductively glimpsed though the long side slit in the dress.

There were also several pairs of shoes, and when I saw the black sling-backs with three-inch heels, I almost wet myself with excitement. They were beautiful. I knew I'd have trouble with the heels, but I put them on straightaway, and spent ages practising walking in them, turning, swivelling, striding and ambling.

When I put it all together, by slipping on the dress, I looked fabulous! Quite large, but with a femme fatale appearance. I spent several minutes admiring myself, before I heard the gong sound downstairs.

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

'Wow, you look good enough to eat.'

Jason had seen me coming hesitantly down the stairs — hesitant mainly because I thought I might go arse over tit in those shoes, rather than because I was frightened of meeting everyone. (Well, OK, I was a bit nervous, but more about meeting people for the first time, rather than them detecting I was not really Susan Martin.)

Jason had quickly disengaged himself from the rest of the group (all men!) and come over to greet me at the foot of the stairs.

I gave him a quick smile, and said, 'Well, I suggest you have the canapés, instead of me. They look delicious.' I smiled at Nicole, who brought a large tray of them over to me. Jones the butler offered me a sherry, which I gratefully took and almost downed, in one. Nothing like sherry for getting rid of nerves.

'You'd better come over and meet the rest of the group,' and he drew me over to the three men, and started to introduce me. There was Scott, who was in his mid-thirties. He had a rather craggy appearance, which I guessed many women would find attractive. Next to him was Paul — about the same age — with a much softer, almost effeminate face. When he spoke, his voice was so sweet and sexy, it set my pulse racing.

'Hang on!' I thought, 'I'm really a bloke.' My pulse really should not be pounding at meeting a man who, I guessed from his appearance, was really gay.

Harold was standing on the edge of the group, looking as though he wanted to join in, but nervous of doing so. He was fairly elderly, probably in his late seventies, and looked somewhat frail. I felt sorry for him.

There's always something interesting about seeing a group of people meet for the first time, none of them certain about where they will fit into the scene, but each wanting to steer events in their own direction.

Paul was frantically trying to chat up Scott, who, by his body language, clearly was not interested. In turn, Scott was trying to engage Jason in a discussion on football. Jason was torn between continuing to talk about an obviously popular topic, and chatting up the big-boobed woman he'd met earlier. Having been in similar situations myself on past occasions, I guessed he'd be thinking that: a) The opportunity of sticking his dick into a woman came before all else; and b) It would never do to lose the important ground he'd already made.

Well, I wasn't keen on Jason being too successful with his courting, so I turned to Harold with a smile. He was probably rather shy, I thought, and I tried to put him at ease.

'Did you win this holiday, Harold?'

He looked pleased that I had asked the question, and was about to reply when Jason took the opportunity to break in on the conversation, 'Presumably you didn't win it from a survey at work, granddad. You look as though you haven't worked for about fifty years.'

Scott thought this was highly funny and guffawed loudly, presumably believing this would keep him in the dialogue with Jason. 'Did everyone else win the holiday?' he asked.

There was a general murmur of assent, although I noticed Harold didn't answer.

'Are there any more guests expected, Jones?' Scott put the question which we'd all been wondering, as Jones distributed more sherry amongst us. Five didn't seem a very large number to attend a house party in a mansion of this size — I'd expected dozens of people.

'Everyone is here, sir. The original booking was for nine guests. I regret several of those have subsequently decided not to attend.'

No wonder, I thought, when partners weren't allowed, and the tickets were non-transferrable.

'What about you, Harold? You didn't say whether you won the holiday.' I had been annoyed at Jason's interjection, and wanted to make certain Harold didn't feel left out.

'Oh, I heard that Hunters Lodge was the prize in the survey, so I made certain I was asked to complete it, and I guess I got lucky. I've wanted to come here for ages. It's beautiful countryside, and there are some excellent walks in this area.'

'Ugh! Walks. You can keep those, thank you very much,' Scott said. 'I shall be sticking by the gym and the bar.'

'Well, I enjoy walking,' I said, and added, more out of sympathy for Harold than because I really wanted to walk with him, 'Why don't we walk together, Harold?'

He looked pleased, and inclined his head in acceptance.

'Count me out,' said Paul, 'I'm with Scott on this.'

A pang of regret went through me, that I wouldn't have chance to talk to him, all day. He looked a really interesting person, and rather dishy. For an instant, I thought of telling Harold I'd changed my mind, and would stay at home, but he'd looked so pleased, and after all, I had come here for the walking.

'The walking sounds great to me,' Jason said. 'I'll come with you two.'

'You didn't sound very interested in walking when we talked on the train,' I challenged him, as though I didn't know exactly why he wanted to tag along.

'I thought it sounded rather nice, actually,' he said, but what he really meant was that where the big breasts went, he would follow.

I sighed. I was going to have to be very careful here. If the walk got too much for Harold, and he turned back, it would be just Jason and I left alone, and if he had his way, he'd be inside my knickers within five minutes.

There was no need to worry. Within the next five minutes, first Scott, then inevitably Paul, changed their minds about the next day.

'Seems a pity not to be part of the group,' Scott said. 'I'll come on the walk after all.'

'Well, I can hardly stay here on my own,' Paul added. 'I'll come too.'

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

Dinner was fantastic. I lost count of the number of courses, but it must have been at least seven, each served with its own wine — and that didn't come from the discount store, either. The wine loosened the conversation, and with the exception of Harold, who kept fairly quiet, we all had a fairly lively evening.

Towards the end of the evening, we all moved into the library to take cognac. I took the opportunity to dive to the toilet, remembering at the last moment to go into the ladies, rather than the gents. Apart from Nicole, it appeared I was the only woman here, so I was unlikely to get compromised.

I'd already used the toilet several times, so I was getting used to sitting down and letting it all go. It really seemed quite a luxury, compared to having to aim it in the right direction, making certain it didn't splash my shoes, or spray out sideways onto my trousers, or issue a few drips after I'd zipped myself up.

'I could really get used to this,' I was muttering to myself as I left the ladies.

'What was that?' Jason was waiting outside.

'I said I could get used to this place,' I said.

'I'm not so certain,' he said. 'Look, I have a bit of a problem, and I want to enlist your help.'

'What is it?'

'You've seen how Scott is all over me?' My face must have indicated I didn't know what he was talking about, so he elaborated. 'He's gay. Surely you realised that?'

'Scott? Er, no. It didn't cross my mind.'

'Just like a woman. You are so naíve. Well, anyway, he's coming on so strong, you have to help me out.'

'Jason. I seem to remember that earlier, you were coming strongly onto me.'

'But that's different.'

'Well, women have to sort this problem out by ourselves, all the time. I suggest you sort it out for yourself.' God, I'd only been a woman for less than a day, and already I was thinking like one.

'But have you seen the size of him?'

I considered. 'He's about your height, isn't he?'

'Not his height, you prune. His… well, you know, his equipment.'

My interest was alerted. 'You mean his prick?'

'Yes. It's enormous.'

There was really no reason why I should have been excited by that statement. I was a heterosexual bloke, who happened to be dressed as a woman. So why did that shiver of apprehension go all through my body.

'Are you certain he's gay?'

Jason smiled. 'I'm certain. You must have realised that Paul is as queer as they come, as well, and he's trying to pull Scott. Good job Paul's not after me. He's even bigger. Built like a horse.'

I felt the adrenaline souring through my body, and I'm certain my neck flushed. Fortunately, Jason was too concerned with his own plight to notice.

'So you will do it, won't you?'

'Do what, Jason?'

He looked surprised. 'Why, be my girlfriend, of course. Once Scott realises that I'm with you, he'll lay off.'

'Jason, that is an absolutely pathetic attempt to get close to me. Can't you do better than that?'

'No, I'm serious. Look. You don't even need to sleep with me. I'll simply come up to your room and wait until everyone else has gone to bed before…'

'Jason. There is absolutely no way you get past my bedroom door, especially with such a feeble excuse as that.' I realised as soon as I said it that the rider totally weakened my statement. He'd take it that he only had to find a better excuse. Still, there was no harm in a girl keeping a guy on edge. 'As I said just now, women are always having to sort out these kind of problems for themselves. Now, if you've quite finished propositioning me, I'd like to go to the library.'

I swept off, with Jason meekly following in my wake.

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

'I expect you think men are pathetic.' Hurray! It was Paul who'd spoken to me.

We'd met Harold leaving the library, as we were about to enter. He was off to bed, he said, and we agreed to meet at eight, the next morning. I ignored Jason's cry of horror, at leaving at such a horrendous hour. As far as I was concerned, if he wasn't there, it was no great hardship to go without him.

As soon as we entered the library, Scott swept straight past me and buttonholed Jason, to discuss their favourite footballer. I'd had a chance to glance downwards as he walked past, and had been duly impressed.

Now, as Paul addressed me, I had a peek down at the front of his trousers, and was totally gob-smacked. When men talk about a penis the size of a horse, they're inevitably exaggerating. Only Jason had not been!

I could see it bulging through Paul's trousers, hanging down the left leg, almost as far as his knee, where it swelled into a large knob. I knew the flush was back in my neck, and probably every other part of my body. If my nipples had not been false, they'd have probably tore holes through my dress.

As it was, I said, 'I don't think all men are pathetic, Paul. Only some of them.' I glanced over my shoulder at Jason, as I did so, before I returned my gaze to look deeply into his eyes. 'I don't find you pathetic, Paul.' And please, please, please, I mentally added, don't turn out to be gay.

The gorgeous hunk didn't even acknowledge the compliment. 'I'm not surprised you told Jason to get lost.'

'Sorry. How do you know what I told Jason?'

Paul smiled at me, and the whole world brightened. 'Well, you both came back here.'

I was still puzzled. 'But how did you know what Jason asked me?'

His smile turned into a grin, and I realised he was simply returning the stupid grin on my face. 'Men are so predictable, aren't they? It was obvious Jason was going off to ask to spend the night with you, so that Scott would lay off him.' His glance turned back to the pair of them, and saddened, and my heart saddened, too. 'I quite understand that you didn't. It's probably what any woman would have done.

'Only,' and he turned back towards me, and looked me in the eye, and my heart turned to slush, 'if you had done, I'd have been able to talk to Scott, properly. We met on the train coming up, you see, and we seemed to get on so well. I thought… Well, never mind.'

My hopes were dashed to pieces. It looked like Jason had been right — Paul was gay, but I needed to be absolutely sure. 'What about your partner, Paul?' I pointed to indentation around the third finger on his left hand, where a ring had been until recently. 'Wouldn't your partner mind?'

'It looks like my partner's being unfaithful. I'm not certain our relationship has any future. I thought this weekend might be the start of something new.'

'That's a shame about your relationship, Paul. What was your partner's name?'

He looked as though he wasn't going to tell me, but then said, 'Melissa.'

Yes! Yes! Yes! He'd had a relationship with a woman. There was hope for me. But then, I remembered with a terrible sinking feeling in my heart, that I wasn't a woman at all, I was really a heterosexual man. What the hell was I doing, trying as a woman to chat up a man? I almost cried with despair.

'You suddenly look sad.'

I put on a brave smile. 'Not really, but I have decided I am going to give you a hand. You can thank me properly, tomorrow.'

I stood up, and walked towards the door, before turning round and calling out, 'Jason, are you coming to bed, now?'

CHAPTER 7

I was at the top of the stairs before Jason caught up with me. 'Quick. Let's go. Scott was leaving immediately after I left, and I think he's following me up the stairs.'

I blanked him outside my bedroom door. 'Sorry Jason. Exactly where were you thinking of going?'

'In your room, of course. You said…'

'I did as you asked me to. I got you out of Scott's clutches. However, just because I gave you the excuse for leaving the library, it doesn't follow that you have to come into my bedroom. So, if you'll excuse me.'

'No, look. Scott's coming.'

Certainly there was the sound of someone coming up the stairs.

'Well, you'd better run along, then, before he comes.'

He gesticulated hopelessly around the lobby. 'But there's nowhere to go.'

The footsteps on the stairs were getting louder. I relented.

'OK, but if you come in, you do so on my terms. Agreed?'

'Yes. Yes. Anything.'

'Right, take off your belt and hand it to me. Then turn round and put your arms behind your back.'

'Oh, no! No way. Sorry.'

'It's your choice, Jason.'

The footsteps were only a few treads away, now.

'OK. OK. Here you are.'

In seconds, the belt was in my hand, and his arms were behind his back. I wrapped the belt twice around his elbows, and then pulled it tight and secured it. I already had my key ready, and it took only another second to turn it in the lock, pull Jason in after me, and shut the door again.

'Oh, thanks, Susan. You've saved my life.'

'Well, you can sit on the chair over there…' I pointed, '…for a few minutes until you can safely leave.'

'But he might be waiting for me.'

'Jason, you're being just too pathetic. Sit down and shut up.'

'I need to go to the toilet. Can you release my arms, please.'

I considered. It was almost certainly a trap, but on the other hand…

'Come on,' I grabbed hold of him and marched him into the en-suite. I undid the fastening on his trousers and unzipped him, then pulled down his trousers and underpants.

'Are you going to hold it for me.'

'Don't be disgusting.'

'But I'll wet myself or do it all over the floor unless…'

'Sit down like we women do. That way you won't miss.' I stormed out and slammed the door shut, trying to shut out of my mind the sight of that rather nice chunky prick, and the hairy balls.

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

I have always been heterosexual — never felt the slightest desire to grab hold of a bloke and have sex with him. So why was it so different now that I was dressed as a woman?

I thought about it quietly for a minute. Perhaps I was simply playing the part well. I'd tried to completely immerse myself into the character of Sue. But then, surely Sue wouldn't be letting strange men into her room in the middle of the night and helping them to take down their trousers.

Would she?

Of course not.

Would she?

'I've finished.'

Of course, it was really an academic question about whether Sue would or wouldn't. The point was that I was playing the part of a character with huge tits and protruding nipples — that was not Sue — simply someone with her name. There was really no question about what I should do now. I went into the en-suite. Jason was standing up, and so was his prick.

He grinned at me. 'Could you pull my trousers up?'

'You're very trusting.' I crouched down in front of him so I could grab hold of his trousers in both hands, a move that put his prick only an inch away from my face. I stared back at it — it looked as though it was getting very excited, with the veins on the shaft standing out and the head turning purple. 'I might bite it off.'

'I wouldn't mind if you gobbled it off.'

'Is that so?' In one smooth movement, I stood up, pulling his trousers with me, right up and over that bulging prick, until they were around his waist.

'Ugh! Shit! You might have caught it in the zip!'

I smiled benignly, 'As I said, you were very trusting.'

I fastened the trousers at the top, and slipped a hand into his waistband, and pulled him out of the en-suite into the bedroom, and drew him over to the foot of the bed. There was a ribbon tie securing back the lace curtain. I undid it and pulled it free. Then I unfastened his trousers again, and they dropped to the ground, exposing that wonderful monster.

'Oh Jason,' I said, 'I told you I wasn't going to have sex with you.' I pushed my body forward until my boobs were pushing into his chest, and his prick was pushing against my navel, and I wriggled a little from side to side. 'You do understand that, don't you?'

'Yes,' he said. 'Anything, please, anything. Just let me spend the night with you.'

I undid the buttons on his shirt and pushed it over his shoulders and down his arms, until it wrapped around the belt securing them. I lowered myself down his body, wriggling slowly as I did so, until I could lick and suck his right nipple.

'Is that all you want, Jason? To spend the night with me?' I transferred my mouth to his left nipple.

'Oh, yes please.'

I slid further down his body until I was kneeling before him. I lightly ran my hands down his magnificent cock, and gently squeezed his balls.

'I bet you'd like something else, though, wouldn't you Jason?' I took the ribbon and wound it twice tightly around his cock and balls, then tied it underneath. Then I passed the ribbon around the bedpost and tied his cock and balls tightly to it.

'What are you doing?' Alarm in his voice, now.

I stood up. 'I'm simply making certain you don't get up to anything else while you're in the room.'

'But I can't move.'

He was right there. His arms were tightly tied behind his back at the elbows; his trousers were dropped around his feet, and since he had his shoes on, he wasn't going to be able to take them off; and his cock and balls were tightly tied to the bedpost at the foot of my bed. He couldn't move an inch without tearing them from his groin.

'What more could any maiden want, than a beautiful male ornament at the foot of her bed?' I gave him a wonderful smile. 'Now, I really must get undressed and ready for bed.' I want you to close your eyes, whilst I do so.'

Poor Jason. He really didn't know whether I was kidding or serious. To be honest, neither did I! This was a situation like no situation I had been in before, and the power I felt at the moment had gone to my head. I felt an elation as though I'd just injected half a kilo of heroin into my bloodstream — absolutely fantastic, but at any moment, I would explode — but in exactly what way, I wasn't certain.

I noticed that Jason had squinted up his eyes, pretending they were closed, so very, very slowly, I wriggled out of my little, sexy knickers. Keeping my back towards him, I bent down so he had a superb view under my dress, and slipped them over my shoes. Then I turned round and pulled my knickers over his head.

'I told you to close your eyes. That will teach you obedience.'

I could see he was breathing in the smell of me, and revelling in it. With the knickers over his head, he could now open his eyes properly, and since the material was translucent, he had a far better view of me than before. But I pretended not to notice.

I lifted one foot onto a footstool, and undid the buckle on my shoe, then slowly slid my hands up my leg, lifting the skirt of my dress as I went, until I reached the top of my stocking. I released the suspender, then just as slowly, slid the stocking down my leg. I removed the shoe and stocking, and then stood up and half turned, so that Jason would have just as good a view, as I repeated the same operation on the other leg.

Then I reached up behind my back and pulled down the zip, and shrugged first one shoulder forward, then the other, so the dress slowly slid down to my breasts and snagged on my nipples. It took several shrugs for it to slip over first the left nipple, and then the right, but once those beautiful obstacles had been cleared, it was a rapid fall to the floor. That left only my bra and suspender belt, and I reached behind me and released the suspender belt, and then lifted my hands to unhook my bra.

For one nasty moment, I thought I couldn't get it undone, and I had visions of that Peter Sellers' scene where he had the girl in his room, but couldn't get his clothes off. But then it was free, and rather than just letting it off, I turned my back on Jason to remove it. Poor boy!

I remembered that when Nicole had unpacked my suitcase, she'd slipped a nightdress under the pillowcase — another item that Sue had sneakily packed in place of my boring, old pyjamas. Still, when I held it up for inspection, it was so pretty it took my breath away. A virgin white material, so thin it was almost transparent, with a plunging neckline and slits from the waist downwards. Keeping my back towards Jason, I slipped it over my head and adjusted it.

'What do you think of this, Jason?' I turned to show him, and I heard him gasp with pleasure, at seeing my breasts and nipples staring back at him through the material. I pulled the knickers from his head, so he could see me more clearly.

'You're beautiful,' he whispered.

'Thank you,' I said. 'I bet you're pleased to be spending the night with me, aren't you?'

'Oh, yes. Yes I am.'

'Good.'

I pulled back the sheet on the bed, sat on the edge of it, then demurely lifted my legs up, keeping the hem of the nightdress around my shins, and lay down. Then I pulled the sheet back over me, and said, 'I'm feeling very tired, now Jason. You don't mind if I turn out the light, do you?' and I fumbled for the pull cord over the bed.

CHAPTER 8

'You can't leave me like this.'

'Leave you like what, Jason?'

'Like this.' He nodded violently downwards. 'I've got to have you.'

'But Jason, we already agreed.'

'Oh, please.'

He looked at me so beseechingly, that my heart missed a little beat.

'W-e-l-l-l. I don't know.' My foot found its way from underneath the sheet, and I used my big toe to trace a line down the underside of his prick. My God, he was hard. The ribbon tightly tied round his balls had played an important part in making him harder, of course, and as he got harder and larger, so it dug in more tightly around him, to make him harder and larger still.

'Perhaps I should turn around in the bed, so I can admire my beautiful male ornament more closely.'

'Please. Oh, please.'

I swivelled around in the bed, and ended up lying on my tummy, so he had a first class view down the cleavage of my nightdress. 'Is that better, Jason?' and I poked out my tongue and touched the tip of his prick.

'U-g-h-h-h.'

I could sense that he was so close to coming, I was likely to have a bucketful of cum in my face if I did that again. I got out of bed and knelt down in front of him.

'Oh Jason. You're very big, aren't you?' and I used my tongue to lick one of his balls.

'Ha-a-a-a.'

From the difference in his tone, I thought it was probably a bit safer doing that than touching his dick. I licked the other one, with similar results, and then I sucked his complete ball into my mouth.

Yuk! Hairs! I spat them out, wriggling my tongue to locate the elusive ones.

'Why don't men wax their balls?' I complained. After all, we woman always took good care to defoliate.

'Sorry.'

'Well, I'm not doing that again.'

'You're not!' His voice started to rise in a panic, fearing I might be packing up totally.

'Oh, don't worry.' I smiled at him. 'When you have a body like mine, there are other ways to satisfy a man.'

I slipped the strap of my nightdress off the left shoulder, and then did the same with the right one, and pulled the nightdress down over my boobs. 'Now, how do you fancy a good time with these beauties?'

He didn't have to speak, his face said it all. I grasped a breast in each hand and moved forward to saddle his cock. It was shining so brightly, I could almost see myself reflected in it, and it was so hard, and throbbing. I moved my breasts together to enfold it, and then moved one up and the other down, and back again.

His balls were pressing against my chest immediately under my tits, and I could feel the pressure starting to build. I moved both my tits together — up, and down — up, and down — up, and…

Jesus Christ! A jet hot spurt of liquid caught me under the chin and splayed out along my jaw line. I vigorously shoved my tits up and down again, hard.

I'd thought his first ejaculation was hot and forceful, now I realised it was his pre-come. The second load was so hot it almost burnt me, and it came with such force it bounced off my chin and splashed out towards my shoulder. Not quite reaching them, I could feel it hanging down in great gobs from my chin.

I glanced down to see, just as his next ejaculation was shooting upwards. It caught me on the nose and part went up my nostrils, the rest went into my eyes. The smell of his cum filled my head and my eyes were stinging, my eyelids stuck open by the cum on them. All I could see was that enormous, shining, purple knob, preparing to shoot another load in my direction, and I think it was that feeling of helplessness that pushed me over the edge. I felt a sweetness sweep through me that was so wonderful.

I knew another ejaculation would be coming at any second, and I wanted to capture every wonderful part of it. I opened my mouth and bent my head, just in time to catch the next load, and it slammed into the back of my throat, and slid down inside me. And the syrupiness inside me just swamped out every other feeling. This, I realised, was an orgasm like nothing I'd ever had before, and I wanted it to last forever.

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

Needless to say it didn't, but bloody hell, compared to the normal duration of my orgasms, it was like War and Peace had been turned into a sex manual. I don't know how many more spurts Jason performed. It didn't really matter. I was in my own version of paradise that seemed to last for half the night, but was probably only a few minutes.

When I finally looked up at him through my cum sodden eyes, I could see he was well into his post-coital depression. He was looking down at me, my face covered in his own cum, and huge gobs were hanging from my chin and my nipples down to the floor. He was obviously thinking what a dirty little slut I looked, and probably wondering how he could even have bothered to get an erection up for me. Such is the lot of women!

I stood up and released his arms from the belt, and left him to sort out everything else, whilst I went into the en-suite. When I came out after taking a long shower, the bastard hadn't even left a note. I knew that was the last connection I'd had with him, in all senses of the word. Good riddance to bad rubbish!

CHAPTER 9

It was only as I started to get dressed next morning that I realised how completely Sue had replaced the contents of my suitcase, when she'd come home late on Thursday night. She must have tipped out everything I'd spent the last few days carefully packing, and completely replaced them with the things she'd bought.

Fortunately, I'd separately packed my rucksack with my walking boots, first aid kit and survival bag, but everything else was gone. Most importantly, my waterproof, breathable, walking trousers weren't there! Instead, there was a short, flared, grey skirt, which the labels promised were 'ideal for walking.'

Sue had obviously chosen it against her most important criteria — that it colour coordinated with my anorak — and she'd also included sexy tee shirts, a sweater, little white woollen socks and a dinky little hat. I reckoned that they would give me no protection, whatsoever, when the rain came sweeping horizontally across the cold, Scottish mountainside. I was in for a miserable walking weekend.

***********

Harold had already eaten when I got down to breakfast, and there was no sign of anyone else, apart from Nicole who served me. I asked her if she knew whether the others were on their way.

She looked rather apologetic, as she said, 'Jason came back to the library, last night at about midnight, and told me not to bother to wake him this morning, as he'd decided not to go on the walk. Scott and Paul promptly decided they weren't going, either, so I'm afraid it's just yourself and Harold.'

'That's fine,' I said. 'I'd really prefer not to walk with Jason, anyway.' A thought struck me. 'But I thought Scott followed us up to bed. How come he was still in the library at midnight?'

Nicole looked puzzled and shook her head.

'Well, certainly someone was coming up the stairs behind Jason, last night. Doesn't Scott have the room opposite mine?'

Enlightenment dawned on Nicole's face. 'Oh, no, that room's empty. No, that was me coming up the stairs behind Jason to ask if you wanted a hot drink, but I saw you dragging Jason into your room, and thought that things would be hot enough.'

So Jason — the bastard — had lied about Scott following him, specifically to trick his way into my room. It was a good job I'd got rid of him. My thoughts turned to Paul, and I said, 'It's a shame that Paul's not coming walking. I really like him.'

'Did things not work out with Jason last night?'

'He was upset that I wouldn't let him put his minute dick inside me, and jiggle it about for a few seconds. And he didn't seem to enjoy being tied up, very much.'

'Wow! Are you into bondage? Fantastic! Has he really got a minute dick? I rather fancied him myself.'

'You'd have more fun playing with your little finger, but you're welcome to him if you want. Personally,' I gave her a knowing look, 'I'd have thought Scott was better equipped, in all respects. Have you noticed him? He's massive.' And, I thought, if you took Scott out of circulation it would leave Paul at somewhat of a loose end.

'I thought he just liked men, but do you think he might be bi-sexual? Mmm. If he is, I suppose he has got somewhat of a major advantage over Jason. Perhaps I'll get a chance to speak to him today, if you think he'd be worth it.'

'I think he would, Nicole.' I nodded sagely. 'I think he would.'

'Well, in that case… I'm bound to see him around this morning, I'll see if I can have a word.'

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

Harold eyed my outfit, apprehensively.

'It looks very attractive, my dear, but I think you'll find it quite impractical out on the mountainside.'

'I know. Unfortunately, my walking trousers got left behind. It's all I've got, apart from jeans, and they'd be even worse.'

He nodded agreement. Better to have wet, bare legs, than wet, jean-encased legs.

'Well, it's your decision. If you'd rather stay behind, I'm quite happy to walk on my own. But I'd also be very happy if you came.'

'It's a shame about my trousers but it can't be helped. I really want to walk, and I think I'd very much enjoy walking with you.' At least, he wouldn't be looking at my tits all day. On second thoughts, he was a man, so late seventies or not, he probably would. But at least he wouldn't be trying to get my knickers off. Little did I realise.

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

We had a really great morning. Unusually for Scotland, the sun stayed out all morning, and the air was fresh and clean. As we reached the first crest of the hill, we could see for miles in every direction, and we both felt on top of the world.

The skirt was far more practical than I expected, since it was so short it didn't get splashed with mud within a few minutes of leaving the hotel, as my trousers would have done.

We met several other hikers, generally in groups of two and three, and I was pleased that all the men eyed me appreciatively. It was strange, I reflected, that my initial apprehension when Sue had first muted the idea had been so negative, whereas becoming a woman, which for all intents and purposes I was, had actually increased my enjoyment of the walk.

We stopped about midday to eat the packed lunches Nicole had prepared for us, and we sat on the side of a hill with the sun shining in our faces, and enjoyed it as if it was a childhood picnic.

We sat about twenty feet above the footpath, and several hikers passed us by, generally giving us a friendly wave. But there wasn't a single male that didn't have a quick glance up my skirt as he did so. And I let them all see, because I was in heaven! It was simply so nice, for once, to be the object of desire, rather than always being the subject.

Harold and I shared my folded survival bag as a seat, and his thigh nestled comfortably against mine. I could see his eyes were closed, and his breathing became more regular. In the heat of the sun, I, too, felt my eyes closing.

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

The heavy spots of rain took us completely by surprise. The storm cloud had crept up from behind, and the sun was still shining as the squall hit us. Even as we rummaged inside our rucksacks for our anoraks, the spots turned into a torrential rain, which would drench us in seconds.

'Get inside the survival sack,' Harold shouted.

It was a great idea and I quickly unfolded it and laid it flat, scrambled inside, feet first, and pulled the bag right over my head. In case you don't know, survival bags are large bags made of thick plastic, usually bright orange for visibility, which any sensible walker carries with them. Lost in mist, perhaps drenched through, or with a twisted ankle — a survival bag will keep you alive when the elements are conspiring to kill you.

You can just about get two people inside, for it means a warm, healthy person can keep an injured person warm with their own body heat, but it's a tight squeeze, deliberately so. So I was rather startled when Harold scrambled in beside me. OK, he was only small and elderly, but I had breasts like melons, and a huge arse and hips. He wriggled around to get down the bag, past my tits and bum, until finally we were wedged together like a pair of mummified Siamese twins.

'You didn't mind me getting in here, did you?'

The rain cascading over the outside of the bag was keeping my bum cold, but between our bodies, the heat was building like a furnace.

'Well, it's a bit late, asking now, isn't it?'

'Sorry. I suddenly realised I was getting absolutely drenched. I thought there'd be plenty of room inside. I didn't realise how… big, you were.'

'I find it strange to hear you say that, when you've been ogling at how “big” I am, all morning.'

'Sorry.'

I smiled at him. 'That's alright. I always take a stare as a compliment.' I did as well. Shameless hussy! 'Are you comfortable there?'

God, he should be. His face was cushioned by my breasts on either side. Heavens knows where my nipples were poking. Probably into his ears.

He smiled back. 'Yes thanks. A bit hot, maybe, but very comfortable.'

Down below, I could feel something harden between us. There was no point in trying to ignore it — it would only lead to embarrassment all round.

'Harold, you're getting an erection.'

'Oh, er… Am I?' As though he didn't realise it himself.

'Yes, Harold. A great horny erection.'

'Sorry. I er… haven't had one of those in years. Not really since my wife died.'

Poor bugger.

'How long ago was that?'

'Five years ago, when I was seventy-one.'

Christ! His first erection in five years!

'Well…' I gave a little wriggle against him, and felt it go harder still. 'Seems a shame to waste it. I mean…' another wriggle, 'with that monster stuck between us, I don't think we'll be able to get out of this bag without assistance. We'd better do something about it.'

'What do you suggest?'

I forced my arm down between our bodies. He was such a tiny guy, until… 'Christ, your prick is thicker than your leg.' Well, I may have been exaggerating slightly, but I thought, at that age, the guy might need some encouragement. He didn't!

I unzipped him and undid the waistband of his trousers, then pushed them and his underpants down, until the monster leapt into my hand.

'Bloody hell, Harold! What a gorgeous prick you've got.'

My skirt was around my waist, anyway, so all I had to do was to pull the gusset of my knickers to one side, and he was nuzzling his way inside.

The instructions for the Hiplet had been quite boastful of their ability to simulate a vagina during intercourse. Personally, when I'd read that, I'd considered that anyone who tried it on an unsuspecting male was dicing with death, since if the deceit was discovered, it would be fair to say the victim would be more than a little upset.

But with Harold and myself tightly squeezed inside that survival bag, I have to say the thought didn't even cross my mind. I was a person with a vagina; Harold had something he wanted to put inside it, and once he got going, he was an incredibly rampant pig. I lay on my back, since I'd probably have crushed the life out of him if we'd done it the other way round, and he was between my legs and on top. And he fucked the life out of me. Well almost, anyway.

The people who'd designed that Hiplet hadn't just concentrated upon getting the external shape right. They'd managed to locate the knob of my prick in just the same position that the clitoris would go. So with a skilled lover, which Harold was, my prick was continually being caressed by his own, as he shafted in and out.

Oh, absolute heaven! I was totally helpless. I couldn't have stopped him if I'd tried, but there was no way I wanted it to stop. I wanted him to go on forever, and ever. Finally, he was squirting deep inside me, and he was shouting, and I, too, was screaming with orgasmic pleasure.

We spent wonderful minutes just moving slowly against each other, making certain that every drop of semen had entered my body, to make babies…

Make babies! The thought brought me up sharp.

'It's alright. I've been sterilised, and I don't think I have any nasty illnesses,' He was considerate to the end, thinking about my concerns. A real gentleman.

'Well, I don't have any nasty illnesses either, despite the impression that my appearance may give.'

'I know that.' He stretched up to kiss me on the chin, the only part of my face he could reach. 'I pride myself I can tell what kind of a person they are.'

I hoped he could not.

CHAPTER 10

We arrived back at the hotel tired, happy and completely fucked.

'Thank you, Harold. You've given me a marvellous time.'

'Thank you, Susan. I really enjoyed it. Do you fancy the same thing tomorrow?'

I looked into his face, smiled and nodded. 'Yes please. I'd like that.'

'Good. Then shall we say the same time, tomorrow morning? I shall see you at dinner, this evening, but I'll get an early night afterwards. Leave you young people to have fun on their own, without oldies like me interfering. See you later.'

The smile remained on my face as he walked away. He knew I was probably going to have frolics later, and had wisely decided to keep out of the way. My thoughts turned to Paul, and I wondered whether Nicole had managed to charm Scott, and take him out of the competition for Paul's charms. I decided to seek her out.

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

'You were right. He is bi.'

'Told you.'

'The only thing is… well, I wanted to know what you thought. You see, although he says he's happy enough with women, he's still an…' she looked around to make certain we weren't being overheard, then continued in a whisper, '…arse man.'

'What?'

'Well he likes to shove it in the back passage rather than the front. What do you think?'

Well it was her decision where she allowed men to stick their tools. Personally, with the size of Scott's tool, I wouldn't have let it within ten feet of my arse, but with my vested interest, I really didn't want to discourage her. 'I've heard that lots of women find it much more erotic than doing it the conventional way. I think it would be a good experience to give it a go.'

'Great.' Nicole's face lit up with delight. 'I'll fix it up for this evening.'

'Sounds good to me, Nicole. Well done.'

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

When I got back to my room, I went to bed and zonked out until it dinnertime, leaving barely enough time to shower and dress. Dinner was another immensely enjoyable meal, everyone contributing to the lively conversation, and it ended far too soon, especially as I thought I was starting to get on so well with Paul.

After the others broke up from the table, he and I stayed talking for a few minutes, before wandering down to the library for coffee. Nicole was in there serving, but everyone else had disappeared.

'Hi, I'd just about given up you on you two,' she said. 'It's my early night, tonight, so I was anxious to get away.'

She handed us our coffees, and whilst Paul was helping himself to sugar, she silently mouthed to me, 'Scott's upstairs in the bedroom,' and she grinned and gave a thumbs up gesture to me, which I returned before Paul turned around.

'Well you'd better get off, then Nicole,' I said, 'and have a good evening.'

'You too,' she said with a wink. And she disappeared.

Might as well go for the direct approach, I thought, and I looked Paul in the eye and asked, 'Do you think I will have a good evening?'

He met my eye, unblushing, but with a tiny smile crinkling the edges. 'I'm certain you will,' he said.

'It would obviously be better if I spent it with someone I was attracted to.'

'I think you'll be well satisfied,' he said.

Yes!!!

I smirked at him, and he said he was feeling a bit tired, and would go straight up to bed. As for me, I couldn't keep the smile off my face.

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

The room was in complete darkness as I opened the door, but in the light from the doorway, I could just see a shape under the sheets, with an enormous tent pole pushing them up in the middle. For what I was about to receive, I knew I would be truly grateful.

I didn't want to ruin the moment by putting on the light, but knew that as soon as the door closed, it would be totally black inside, which would also rather spoil the effect. So, I stayed where I was, knowing Paul could see me in silhouette, and I reached behind and unzipped my dress, and let it slide to the ground.

I turned sideways on as I released my bra, knowing there'd be no flop as I let those two beauties have their own way. Then I bent over and slid my knickers to the ground. Only then did I allow the door to close behind me, plunging the room into darkness, and went over to the bed in stockings, shoes and suspender belt, my heels making a superb click - click - click noise on the wooden floor.

When I thought I must be about level with the bed, I reached out my left hand, until it touched the sheet and the tent pole beneath. I felt it through the sheet. It was like the pole of no tent I had ever erected before. So thick my hand couldn't encircle it, and a good twelve inches from base to head. Even through the sheet, I could feel the veins standing proud, and the knob just had me wetting myself at the thought of it thrusting inside my pussy.

I pulled the sheet to one side, and lifted my one leg right over the top of Paul's legs, and straddled him so that I had my knees on either side of his. It was these initial manipulations, in the complete dark, which I always found most difficult. My nose came into contact with his prick, and I gasped with shock, because it was far higher than I thought.

I opened my mouth to its fullest extent, and tried to get the head of his cock inside, but it was far too large. In fact, I think I must have caught it with my teeth, for Paul suddenly said, 'Shit!' in a rather hoarse voice, and shot up and grabbed my head between his hands, and kissed me violently.

In the past, it's always been me doing the kissing. OK, perhaps my partner might respond, but I have never before been given the kind of kiss that says 'I am going to fuck you rigid, and you're not going to be able to do anything about it, except lay back and enjoy it.'

My knees went weak, and I crumpled in Paul's arms. His prick was pushing me under the chin, and all I could do was to bring my hands round and feel for his wonderful testicles, and carefully hold them, so soft but throbbing with the pressure of his semen, which he would force inside me later. His tongue explored the inside of my mouth, his face pressed into mine so hard I could barely breathe.

Somehow, we had swivelled around, so that I was lying on my back and he was squatting between my legs. He picked up my right leg and, starting at the point just above my stocking top, kissed it, and then slowly moved his lips down to my shoe. He undid the buckle and pulled it off, and threw it into the corner of the room.

Then his fingers travelled back up my legs to the suspender fastening, and he undid it and slowly pulled the stocking down my leg and pulled it off my foot. He repeated the whole operation with my left leg, spending extra time kissing my inner thigh.

He moved his whole body up mine, until he was kneeling on my shoulders, and his testicles were resting against my lips. Mindful of my experience with Jason's hairy balls, I carefully kissed Paul's and felt their smooth skin. They were hairless! He'd shaved them. Wonderful. He wriggled so that one of them was resting over my mouth, and I was able to suck it right inside, and massage it with my tongue. I could feel it throbbing with excitement.

Whilst that had been going on, Paul had been fiddling about with my arms. I wasn't quite certain why, until with one swift movement, he leaned his body backwards, and my arms were yanked upwards and sideward, towards the bedposts at the head of the bed. The bastard had tied my stockings over my wrists and then looped them round the bedposts and drawn them tight.

'I hear you enjoy bondage, so I thought I'd give it a go.'

Well, I could hardly complain. Not only was my mouth full, but it was so erotic that I almost climaxed on the spot. However, I didn't want him to think he could get away with anything, so I pulled up my left leg, to give him a good kick. He caught it in the crook of his arm, and pulled hard on the stockings to lever himself back to the kneeling position. Not only did this stretch my arms apart to the limit, it meant that my leg was forced up right over my shoulder. Then he was winding the other end of my stocking around my ankle, so that my left wrist and ankle were virtually tied together above my head.

It was starting to get extremely uncomfortable, but his testicle was still filling my mouth, so I couldn't even object. Already, he was trying to grasp my right leg to give it the same treatment, but I thought things were going too far, so I gave his testicle a quick bite, just to show him he couldn't get away with anything.

'Bitch!'

I must have bitten it rather harder than I planned, for he violently jerked his testicle out of my mouth.

'I'll teach you never to do that again.'

The bastard started to stuff a pillow inside my mouth, and that's when I began to get a bit worried. Not only wouldn't I be able to protest about his actions, I could choke on the pillow. I tried biting his fingers, but he used the bulk of the pillow to protect them, stuffing more and more into my mouth, until it was full.

After that, it took him only a few seconds to grab hold of my right leg, and painfully force it over my head, and truss it against to my right wrist. It was so fucking uncomfortable. I was bent double, with my knees somewhere over my shoulders, and my arse poking in the air. I'd never been into S & M, and I was extremely pissed with Paul. I'd asked Jason's permission before I'd tied his arms behind his back, and I had not thought of Paul as a man of violence. I would have wriggled, but every time I moved, it was more painful.

'Sorry about the gag, but I always hate the screams of agony when I start to arse fuck a woman. I find they tend to complain far more than men.'

With those words came the realisation — it wasn't Paul in my bed, it was Scott! Nicole had misunderstood my hints this morning, thinking it was I who wanted to sleep with Scott, rather than me suggesting that she should! All I could think was, 'Oh my God! What had I done?' Well, I found out soon enough.

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

To be honest, Scott was an absolute gentleman when it came to getting his monster into my arse. I thought it would be just brute force — not so. He shoved lots of Vaseline inside me, to start with, using his fingers to get it as far in as he could. Then he told me he was putting on the condom, and finally, I could feel the giant nuzzling against my hole.

It wasn't one great lunge, more a slow wriggling from side to side, and I could feel myself being stretched wider and wider, and then wider still. Then I could feel him sliding deep inside me; one enormous tool filling my arse like it had never been filled before.

He held it there for a few seconds, just so that I could marvel at how completely I was being stuffed, before it was sliding out again, then in, and out, and in again. Once Scott was certain I wasn't going to scream, the pillow was pulled from my mouth, and I could start moaning with every plunge. As I did so, Scott started moving faster and faster, and making his lunges deeper and deeper each time, until it felt like I was being fucked by a pneumatic drill.

I climaxed at least three times before I felt his balls tighten as they banged against my arse, and with his next thrust, I was being filled with gallons of hot semen. Jesus, it felt good, and my climax was the best yet.

But of course, only seconds later, he was withdrawing, complete with the condom full of all that nice semen, and I was left with a feeling of emptiness. He searched around for some nail scissors to cut my bindings, and then he'd gone.

CHAPTER 11

I had to keep my legs well apart as I staggered down to breakfast next morning. Otherwise, somewhere deep inside me, one well-fucked part of my body came into contact with another well-fucked part of my body, and they both complained.

'How was it?' Nicole and I were on our own again, at the breakfast table, and she was gagging to know.

I could hardly blame her for the misunderstanding. I guessed it was as much my fault as hers, so I told her all the gory details.

'My God! How fantastic. I guess you and he will be a thing, now?' She turned it into a question, by raising her voice at the end.

I shook my head. 'One enormous arse-fucking is enough for one holiday,' I said. 'I'm sticking to lesser men, now. Of course,' I added, 'if you wanted to get to know him better…'

It was the only prompt needed. 'Don't you mind. I mean, it was your idea in the first place, and they do say first come, first served…' She trailed off, hopefully.

'Well, I certainly came first, and frequently, so I was well served. He's all yours if you want him.'

'Thanks. I think I'll just go and see if he's around, yet.'

She disappeared so quickly; I had to serve myself to the rest of my breakfast.

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

'I thought we might have a shorter walk today.' Harold gave me a smile. 'After all, no point in trying to push it too hard.'

I took note of his words. I thought I might be reminding him of them later.

'Where do you suggest?'

I thought we could walk up the stream for a bit. There's a rescue hut not too far along. Perhaps we could stop there for a break?'

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

I never dreamt a seventy-six year old could have so much stamina. We spent the whole day inside the hut, and I think we probably used every move from the copy of Kama Sutra he'd brought with him.

'There's a very well equipped library, here,' he said, as we went inside the shed, whipping out the leather bound volume. 'I just happened to find this.'

Within thirty seconds we were in position number twenty-eight — or was it seventy-two? I know I lost count of the moves as soon as my first orgasm hit, and I lost count of my orgasms after my fifth, which was about thirty minutes after commencing.

So, all in all, a pretty good day, and we returned to the hotel that evening with huge smiles on our faces.

Just before we got there, Harold said, 'I wanted to warn you that I haven't been altogether honest with you all.'

'What, you mean you're really a twenty-five year old in disguise? That would explain everything.'

If it were possible, his smile got even wider, and I returned it.

'Not quite, but I was... Well, I was a bit of a ram when I was younger. I could never resist a pretty woman. But I did make it a personal rule never to mix business with pleasure, as I quickly discovered it inevitably ended by messing up both. I thought at my age that phase had ended, especially with the experience over the last five years, but it obviously hasn't.'

I shook my head, not understanding what he was getting at. 'So why are you telling me all this?'

'I shall be making an announcement this evening.'

An announcement! Jesus Christ! He was going to announce our engagement!

'Not that.' He'd guessed my thoughts and was laughing at them. 'Something else, but I wanted to explain in advance the reason why I didn't choose you, so remember, I don't mix business with pleasure.'

'Harold. You're talking double Dutch. Explain what you're saying.'

But, even though I pressed him all the way back to the hotel, he refused to be drawn.

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

Harold's announcement came as the meal drew to a conclusion. He brought conversation to a halt in the conventional way, by tapping a spoon against his glass.

'Lady and gentlemen. This is our final evening together, and I have something important to tell you.'

Jason and Scott looked rather angry at having their conversation interrupted, but held their peace for the time being.

'Firstly,' Harold continued, 'we have all been on first name terms here, and no one, particularly me, has been circulating their surnames. I must now tell you that my name is Harold G Sutton.'

I'd never heard of him. Neither, I think, had Paul, but both Jason and Scott looked astonished — Jason to the point where his jaw dropped. Not wanting to hurt Harold's feelings, I tried to look politely surprised, but Paul came straight out with it.

'I'm sorry. The others obviously recognise your name, but I'm afraid I don't.' He gave a little nervous smile, to show he wasn't trying to be offensive.

Jason and Scott looked even more astonished, not only that someone should not know Harold G Sutton, but also confess to the outrage. Harold sat back in his seat and burst into laughter.

'Well, it's good to be taken down a peg. Especially by you, Paul. For your benefit, I am a rather successful dealer on the stock exchange.'

From the expression on the faces of the other two, I gathered that was similar to the Pope confessing to being religious.

'Although I officially retired many years ago, my considerable wealth does mean I continue to be highly active in many businesses, including Chairman of several highly successful companies. As such, I employ a Personal Assistant to help me with the day-to-day duties. My current PA is due to retire in two weeks' time, so I recently placed this advertisement in the press.'

He held up a newspaper cutting for inspection. I heard a gasp around the table, but to me, sitting next to Harold, it appeared to be the normal kind of ad you see: “Retired businessman needs Personal Assistant to manage his multi-million pound investment portfolio. Live-in post, on unaccompanied basis, mainly on employer's country estate, but also in Knightsbridge penthouse. Must be…”

Harold lowered the cutting before I could finish reading, so I glanced around the table to see where the gasps had come from — Jason and Scott, again, and from their appearance, they had obviously applied for the job. Oh dear, neither had been particularly friendly to Harold, in fact Jason had been downright rude on that first evening.

'I'm sure it has now become obvious that all of you applied for the post, and that after sifting the hundreds of applicants, I made a shortlist, which included the four of you.'

He looked around at us, all looking rather astonished, but none, I was certain, looking quite as surprised as me, for I was completely gob-smacked! Susan had applied for a job without telling me! An unaccompanied, live-in job, which would have taken her semi-permanently away from home! The bitch! How could she do that? I dragged my attention back to Harold, who was continuing.

'…excellent on paper, so never having much confidence that interviews produce good results, I decided to make the decision in a rather unique way. All the short listed applicants were invited here, in the same way as yourselves — by being asked to complete a questionnaire and then “winning” a prize. More than half did not turn up, so they failed at the first hurdle.'

He turned his smile onto Jason and Scott, and I could guess what was coming. 'I'm afraid that when Jason made my age the butt of his joke on the first evening, and Scott found it rather funny, that also ruled out those two.'

He turned to me. 'I have already explained to Susan why I shall not be employing her, and it has nothing to do with her suitability for the job.' Everyone knew what he meant, and I felt my face burn with embarrassment.

Then he was turning to Paul. 'Over the course of the weekend, I have had a number of interesting conversations with Paul. He is very well qualified, and I think we will get on well together. I have therefore made my decision. I am pleased to invite Paul to become my Personal Assistant.'

All eyes turned to Paul, who was looking almost as surprised as I felt. 'I er… I just didn't realise. It's all a complete shock. I don't know what to say.' He looked as though he was about to cry. 'I think I'd better…' He stood up and abruptly left the room, and we heard him running up the stairs.'

'I think it's time we adjourned for coffee, don't you?' Harold had a broad smile on his face, as he stood up.

CHAPTER 12

'I need to talk to you,' Paul said. 'A kind of heart to heart.'

With the thoughts of Susan's betrayal running through my heart, I hadn't felt like a casual chatter over coffee, so I'd gone straight up to my room. I'd only been there a few minutes, before the knock on the door, and Paul had stuck his head around.

'Of course. Come in.' I smiled at him. 'I guess congratulations are in order.'

'The point is, it wasn't a fair competition.'

'The best person won, Paul. That's the most important point.'

He looked down at a photograph he was holding in his hand, then back up at my eyes. 'But you're not listening to me. You see, I know it wasn't fair competition.'

He stared earnestly into my eyes, and I had a flutter of unease. He was holding the photograph so that I couldn't see the picture, and I desperately wanted to know what was on it. Some evidence about me, perhaps? Did he realise that Susan had actually not been here on this crucial weekend, whilst Harold was supposedly making the final decision between Paul and her?

'Why do you say that?' I asked him.

'It's a bit difficult to put into words. Embarrassing.'

Embarrassing? Oh shit. He had me sussed. Well, he could hardly complain about it, could he? It wasn't as though Susan had been awarded the job instead of him. But it sounded like he was feeling guilty about getting selected, so I guessed I would have to talk it through with him.

'Paul, just start at the beginning. I'm listening. OK?'

He nodded. 'It was all a bit sneaky of Harold to get us up here, like this. Pretending it was a competition we'd won. In a sense, he's responsible for the end result, wasn't he?'

I slowly nodded. 'Yes, Harold was responsible for the result, but it all turned out alright in the end. You got the job, even though you didn't know you were being interviewed.'

'That's why I have to tell Harold about it.'

He was still being evasive, and I wasn't going to admit to my deceit unless he challenged me directly.

'What is it, Paul?'

He stared me in the face. 'The ticket for the holiday was non-transferable, but maybe the ticket holder didn't want to go. Maybe the ticket holder passed it on to someone else.'

So he not only knew I was a fraud, he'd worked out why, as well.

'I suppose that could be possible, Paul.'

'But if they passed the ticket onto a spouse, the gender would be wrong, wouldn't it?'

'Yes of course. So the idea wouldn't work, would it?' But I knew that he knew. I was only trying to evade the issue. I added, 'You're suggesting that the spouse would have to change gender, aren't you?'

He nodded. 'That's precisely it. The spouse would have to dress up as a member of the opposite sex. It wouldn't be easy, of course, but it could be done. There are those specialist shops you can go to. They have a superb range of equipment to meet every need. Expensive, but the result is very realistic.'

'Yes.' I stared back at him. 'They can be very realistic.'

'The question is, how do I tell Harold?'

'I understand you're in a difficult position, but are you certain you need to tell Harold?'

'Of course he needs to know.'

'He'll be awfully upset, Paul. I think it might be kinder not to tell him.'

He looked directly into my eyes, 'I thought you'd have realised by now. I'm not Paul. He's my husband, and I came in his place. My name's Melanie.'

Gulp!

'What?'

'You heard correctly. Do you want me to spell it out?'

I nodded.

'OK, I'll start right at the beginning. My name's Melanie, and I'm married to Paul. On Tuesday, he told me he'd won a weekend break, but since he didn't fancy going and I did, he said I could go in his place. However, they wouldn't let him transfer the name on the ticket — you can understand why, now, but we couldn't then. So Paul suggested that I go disguised as him, which obviously meant me pretending to be a man. Do you follow so far?'

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. As I listened, the voice, which I had always thought so sweet and sexy, turned into a sweet and sexy female voice.

'I've always been totally flat chested, so that wasn't a problem, but when I tried on Paul's clothes, my hips and bottom were far too big. Even after I'd bought clothes that fitted properly, I still looked like a woman wearing men's clothing. Paul suggested I get something to put down the front of my trousers to balance it out, which sounded a good idea, in principle. On Thursday, he came back with the monster you can now see lurking down the front of my trousers.'

There was a glint in her eye, as she said, 'I know you won't understand this. On the one hand, I was incredibly embarrassed about it — but on the other, I was fascinated to experience what it was like to have that thing permanently hanging down my leg. It made me feel so… well built, so masculine, so… powerful, and... well, it touched me in sensitive places. It continually aroused and excited me.'

I looked Paul — that is Melanie — in the eye, and said, 'I understand. It must have been a strange and exhilarating feeling.'

She nodded. 'You're taking this very well. I thought you might be furious with me, for deceiving you and the others, like that.'

I looked back at her, and gave a deep sigh. 'No. For a very good reason.'

She looked puzzled. 'What's that?'

'Exactly the same thing happened to me.'

She looked even more puzzled. 'But you came as a woman. That's not what happened to me.'

'My name is really Mike. I'm pretending to be my wife, Susan.'

Her eyes widened; her mouth gaped. 'That is absolutely disgusting!'

'Well it's…'

'Disgraceful. How could you possibly do such a deceitful thing?'

'But you did the same.'

'That's different. What I did was nothing like as bad. Especially with your… behaviour. What about being faithful to your wife?'

'OK,' I said. 'I acknowledge that, masquerading as a woman, I got on close physical terms with some of the men here. You may feel I was being unfaithful to my wife, but I saw it simply as totally playing the part of the woman into which Sue turned me. I didn't have sex with another woman. I accept that you took a higher stand on that, and didn't have physical relationships with anyone, but…'

My voice tailed off, as her look of disgust turned to one of guilt.

'Melanie? You didn't have sex with anyone, did you?'

'Well, I'd been fancying Scott ever since we travelled up on the train together. After your epic with him last night, Nicole suggested a threesome with him this afternoon, and it worked out really well.'

I gaped. 'You mean that you, and Nicole, and Scott had sex together?

She gave a little grin. 'Yes. And it was absolutely great. I've never been the man before. Scott had Nicole in the… the reverse way, and at the same time, I used my er… monster on Scott in the same way. Then Scott and I reversed, and I had Nicole in the... conventional way.'

'Bloody hell. And I thought I was playing the field. You accuse me of being unfaithful, but what about your loyalty to Paul?'

'It's not as bad as that. There were two things I hadn't realised when I arrived. One was that Paul had applied for this job, which would mean him moving away from me. The bastard! How could he do that?'

'That was exactly the same for me. I never knew Sue was thinking of getting a new job and leaving me. But you said there were two things?'

'Paul wanted to get me out of the way for the weekend, because he's having an affair with some bimbo from work. My sister has been trying to convince me about it for weeks, but I wouldn't believe her. So she went round to our house and waited outside with a camera. Yesterday morning, she emailed me this photograph. I think it's pretty conclusive.'

She showed me the photograph she'd been clutching in her hand. It was taken with a telephoto lens through a bedroom window — one of those windows with reflective, darkened glass, which people believe makes everything inside invisible. Judging by the clarity of the photograph, this was obviously a mistaken belief. I could not only see both participants quite clearly, I also recognised them. The photo showed my wife, Susan, giving a blowjob to the smarmy accountant from her office!

EPILOGUE

The three of us have a great time together, now — Harold, Paul and me, Mrs Susan Martin.

I convinced Melanie she should continue in her new role, and she — that is, he — went off to accept Harold's offer of employment. Afterwards, Harold came to my room to very politely ask me if I would consider becoming his mistress. I didn't have to think twice about it.

It was obvious that Paul and Sue had plotted the scheme together. How they must have wet themselves with laughter at the thought of getting their respective spouses to go on the same holiday, each dressed as a member of the opposite sex, whilst they stayed at home and shagged themselves silly.

Still, Melanie and I had the last laughs. We sent Paul and Sue copies of the photograph, with a short note stating we weren't intending to come home, but without a return address. And Harold's new PA sent a job rejection letter not only to Susan, but to Paul, as well (although the new PA obviously didn't use his own name on the letters). They, poor fools, never realised just why they had been rejected.

I continue to love being a woman. Mind you, I still take care not to use a public convenience. Paul, on the other hand, seems to take pleasure going into the Men's' toilet, standing next to some poser, and letting his prick out, to hang down to his knees.

Harold is a wonderful lover, and as long as I keep his balls drained (which is no mean task), he's very understanding about Paul and myself. Paul keeps suggesting a threesome, but that's men for you. I certainly hope he doesn't suggest it to Harold, because he'd probably agree to it, and I think that being fucked by those two at the same time would be more than any woman could cope with.

Still, if one day you see me with a smile on my face stretching from ear to ear, you'll know what happened!

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Love Charlotte