Synopsis: Ben's sister, Bev, and Joe were planning to have a quiet wedding with hardly anyone present. But when Joe's mother hands down her wedding dress to Bev it creates a big problem — for unknown to Joe's mother, Bev is highly pregnant and the mother mustn't find out.

"Hi Bev," I said, standing up as my twin sister and her fiancé, Joe, approached the restaurant table. "You're looking blooming."

I gave her a kiss on her head, and put my hand on her bump. What is it about pregnancy that makes women look so unbelievably attractive? I guess it's the knowledge that for the next few months, they are fulfilling the very purpose of their womanhood. She grinned back at me, clearly still very happy, but I could tell there was something she was uneasy about.

"Hi Joe," I said to her partner, and we shook hands. He also looked — and felt — a little tense.

"Hi Ben," he replied. "It's good to see you."

"Only ten more days before the big one," I said, as we all sat down at the table. They were getting married the following week.

"That's right."

I looked them over once again, and said, "So what gives? Why aren't you bubbling with joy, like the last time we met up?"

It had been three weeks' ago when they'd told me they were getting married, and both had been seriously nervous about my own reaction to it. After all, having a twin is a bit like being married to them, and I know Bev thought I'd be upset about it. But I'd been overjoyed when they told me. I'm all for free love and all that, but – and call me old fashioned if you like – I do think that when children are on the way that marriage gives the stability that's needed. So last time, after I had greeted their news with enthusiasm, we had eaten, drunk (except for Bev) and been extremely merry.

"You know that we'd decided to have a small wedding – not invite any guests apart from yourself and Gavin, Joe's best man from his office."

"Ye-es." Bev and I had no living relatives and although Joe had quite a big family, he was American, so it had seemed over the top to invite them all over to England for the wedding.

"We'd agreed," Bev said, "that Joe would tell his family just a day or so before the big day, so they had no time to try to muscle in on it. Unfortunately, he told them about it last week."

"Right," I said.

"They were a bit upset about not being invited to the wedding but seemed to accept it. Yesterday, a huge box was delivered to us. It was Joe's mum's wedding dress."

"Uh-hu," I said.

"They're expecting me to wear it for the wedding."

I nodded. "I kind of guessed that."

"But it's never going to fit me with this bump."

I nodded again. "So you're going to have to tell them you're pregnant and won't be able to wear the dress."

"You don't understand," Joe said. He was right about that. "My parents are very religious…"

"They're bible bashers," Bev helpfully added. "They are going to go spare when they discover that not only have we not waited until marriage to consummate our relationship, but I have been disgraceful enough to become pregnant."

I looked at Joe for confirmation that such people still existed in the world, but he nodded his head. "That's about it," he said.

"Couldn't you tell them the dress simply doesn't fit," I suggested. "After all, people are all kinds of different sizes."

"I sent them a photograph a few months back before Bev knew she was pregnant," Joe said. "It was seeing that Bev was about the right size which inspired them to send the wedding dress as soon as they knew we were getting married."

"Then you're going to have to give them a rude awakening," I said.

"No," Joe said. "The shock would kill them. They would never live down the shame."

Somehow, I suspected there was a little more to it than that but it didn't really matter. Whilst I sympathised with him, I couldn't see any alternative. "But what else can you do? In any case, at some stage they are going to have to know they are grandparents."

Joe held out his hand and gave an "iffy" wave. "Maybe we won't tell them straightaway, and maybe it will be a 'premature' birth."

I shrugged. Joe's avoidance of the truth seemed crazy, but I knew what parents could be like.

"We were hoping you would help us," Bev said.

"I'll do anything I can, but I really don't see how I can help."

"The wedding is organised for nine-thirty, a week next Wednesday at the Registry Office," Bev said — rather unnecessarily, I thought, since I'd been there when she made the booking.

"Yes."

"We thought we could set up a dummy wedding at a church that afternoon, and use the wedding dress. We could send them the photographs afterwards."

I paused, trying to work out what difference that made. "But if you can't fit into the dress at the Registry Office, how are you going to fit into it at a church?"

"We wondered if we could get someone else to wear it, pretending to be Bev," Joe chipped in.

I shook my head. "But that would be no good," I said. "Bev is bound to meet up with the in-laws at some time, and then they're going to ask what happened to the woman in the photo who you married."

"Unless we could find someone who looked just like me," Bev said.

OK, call me thick. I should have seen this coming ages back and headed it off. You see, Bev and I may not be identical twins, but there's plenty of similarity between us, including our unusually large noses. But it's never too late to introduce common sense. "Whoa, whoa," I said. "Is this heading where I think it's heading? No way."

"Look, Ben, we will hire the church ostensibly for a photo shoot, so it will be empty apart from us. No one else is going to see you. But we are the same height and build, and our faces are almost identical."

"What about those?" I pointed to her breasts, which she'd had seriously enhanced a few years' ago, and which she'd used mercilessly in trying to pull any guy she'd fancied, up to and including Joe. In pregnancy, they were developing into porn-star size.

"We can stuff something in your bra, but let me worry about making you look good. The important thing is that you'll agree to help us."

I paused. The realistic part of me told me to have nothing to do with it, but my sister needed my help and I couldn't ignore that. Also, somewhere deep inside my mind, there was an excitement which had kicked in when Bev talked about stuffing my bra. I couldn't really understand it, but I knew I had no choice but to say the words. "OK, I'll do my best."

"Oh Ben." Bev leant over and hugged me, and Joe gave me a friendly punch on my shoulder.

"You're gonna be a great brother-in-law."

"Do you really think you can pull it off?" I asked.

"We'll need to get a few more people involved," Joe said. "I know someone at work who's a member of an amateur dramatic society. I'm sure he'd love to pose as a vicar. Gavin will be the best man, for the second time that day, and Bev is going to get her friend Sharon to be a bridesmaid."

"She's a beautician," Bev said, "so she can also help with the make-up. And there's Simon, at work, who's a pretty good photographer."

"We can always edit the photographs if they're not quite right," Joe said. "But the main thing is that you and Bev have similar shaped faces so it'll be a piece of cake."

"Talking of cake," I said, picking up the menu. "Shall we order? I fancy a nice big steak."

"Sorry, Ben," Bev said. "You need to fit into the dress. I'm afraid it's salad for you."

***

Joe went back to work after our meal, whilst Bev took me back to their flat to get me to try on the dress. We had to go into Marks & Spencer's on the way, and purchase some underwear for me.

"We'll buy some sexy underwear for the wedding," Bev said, "but this will do for today's fitting."

Once again, I experienced a thrill run through me at the very idea, but felt I should protest. "But no one's going to see my underwear."

"But what you're wearing underneath affects the way you feel. You have to look a radiant bride - as though it really is the happiest day of your life".

My tummy did an abrupt somersault. What was I getting myself into?

She laughed at my face. "Don't be silly. This is going to be fun."

"But your wedding will be fun," I protested. "You don't need more fun on top of it."

She gave a wry smile. "Funnily enough, weddings seem to be all about stress. That's one of the reasons why we wanted to keep it small. But your wedding will be fun."

I grimaced. Fun was not the word which sprang to my mind, and I tried to put my unease into words. "Bev, are you both certain you want to go ahead with this scheme? It's quite a deceit you're playing on your in-laws, which doesn't make a good foundation for your future relationship with them."

"I know, I know. But you should have seen Joe's reaction when he saw the dress. All his life, he's lived beneath his domineering parents who persecuted him for not following their beliefs. The reason he came to live in England was to get away from them. That's the real reason why we're having a small wedding - Joe doesn't want his family around because they would give him hell about everything, especially me being the kind of slut who gets pregnant outside of marriage. Believe me, Ben, what you're doing is incredibly important to Joe and to our happiness together."

"OK, sis," I said. "Let's get on with it."

When we got to their flat, Bev showed me the dress. It was just absolutely beautiful. A white satin sleeveless dress with a low-cut bodice that was so slim I was never going to fit into it, the skirt falling in an A-line from a wide, satin ribbon around the hips.

"I can never wear this," I protested. "I'll look ridiculous. For a start, you're never going to be able to stuff a bra without it being totally obvious."

"Look," Bev said. "There are ways, believe me. Now why don't you take a shower before trying on the dress? I'll leave you some bikini bottoms in the bathroom. Put them on and tell me when you're decent, and I'll come in and we'll get started with the hair remover."

"Hair remover? You mean from my upper chest?"

"Oh don't be silly, Ben. I told you just now that in order to look the part, you have to feel the part. You can hardly wear such a beautiful dress with hairy legs. We're going to remove all your body hair."

So I took a shower to wash my body and then slipped on the bikini bottoms and let Bev into the bathroom. She brought in some hair remover and then sprayed it all over my body, except for my face.

"We have to leave it to do its job for a while," she said. She looked at her watch and said, "I'll make some tea whilst we're waiting."

I was left waiting like a lemon with this white foam all over my body. After a bit, it started to tingle

"It's tingling," I shouted to her in the kitchen.

"It's meant to," she shouted back. "Leave it alone."

In fact, the tingling got worse until it became quite painful, and I was pleased when Bev returned with our tea.

"It's really painful," I said.

She looked a bit sniffy, but put down the cups and took a sponge and experimentally rubbed a bit of skin on my leg.

"Not long enough, yet," she said. "We'll give it a few more minutes. Drink your tea and then we'll take it off."

I don't think I've ever drunk down a mug of tea so quickly, but eventually Bev was rubbing off the foam and then showering all the stuff off. Wow! You should have seen the sexy legs I had. They were as good as Bev's.

"See what I mean?" Bev crowed as she saw my look.

I nodded.

"OK. So from now on, can you stop being a pain in the arse every time I tell you what we have to do? Joe and I are both really grateful you're helping with our first problem of our married life, but just trust me and do what I say."

I nodded again. In honesty, my complaints had come more because it was what I thought was expected of a heterosexual man, than from my own concerns.

"OK, so I'm going to leave you now, whilst you get dried. Take off the bikini briefs, and put on this control brief. And do something with your willy so it's not sticking out."

I looked down and realised I had a hard on, presumably created by looking at my own sexy legs.

When Bev had gone, I did as she said, pushing my cock between my legs and then pulling up the control brief to keep it in place. It looked respectable, and I went out to Bev.

"First thing," she said, "we need to get you corseted up."

I opened my mouth to complain and then saw her look and closed it again.

"OK," I said, adding, "but I didn't see you buy a corset in M & S."

"I already had this," she said, pointing to the garment on the bed. "In fact, I was wearing it in the photo Joe sent to his parents. That's obviously why they thought the dress would fit me."

She made me step into a body slip and then wrapped the corset around me, squeezing me in somewhat as she fastened the busk. Then I obediently turned around and she started to pull in the strings.

In spite of the discomfort, I watched enthralled, as my waist got smaller and smaller. Finally, she tied it off.

"Phew," I said, "I thought you were going to squeeze my insides out."

"We have a long way to go, yet," she said, "but at least we'll be able to pull the dress around you. Now we can put on your bra and we'll give you some stuffing."

She opened one of the boxes of bras and pulled it out, opening it so I could slip my arms through the straps. "This is a full bra, and completely unsuitable for the dress, "she said, "but I can properly stuff it with some socks and we can make certain we get the size right."

I had to try on several bras before she was satisfied she had the correct band size.

"Now, step into this hoop underskirt, "she said, "and then we'll try putting on the dress."

At last! I know that sounds crazy, but it really was such a lovely dress, I wanted to wear it. The problem was, she was absolutely right. There was no way we would fasten up the bodice.

"You'd better tighten my corset some more," I said, with just enough reluctance in my voice.

She shook her head. "Not yet. We do it bit by bit. You have to be trained into a corset, and we have ten days to do it."

"You mean," I said, as I worked out where she was going, "I'm going to have to wear this every day?"

"I'm afraid so," Bev said. "You can have a little practice latter on at putting it on by yourself, but we'll need to work out a plan so that you progressively reduce your waist to the right size."

"How long each day do I have to wear it?" I asked.

Bev looked a little apprehensive. "All day, I'm afraid. You won't be able to do any gymnastics in it, but it shouldn't be noticeable under your normal clothes."

"I didn't know what I was letting myself in for, did I?" I said with a grin, and Bev relaxed. "And you didn't tell me," I admonished.

"Sorry, " Bev said, "but thanks." I think she would have given me a hug, but with my billowing skirt, she couldn't get very close.

I turned to the mirror and examined myself — a male head perched above the beautiful dress looked obscene. "Is it going to work? What do we do about my face?"

"I think it'll be all right," Bev said. "I'll purchase a wig similar to my hair, and get you some decent boobs. Then, with a bit of expert make-up, I think it will be fine. Don't forget, Joe can always edit the photos a bit — you know, put my face on top of yours."

"If he's going to do that," I asked, "do we need to bother with make-up?"

"Don't forget there'll be the other people in the church with us, all trying to look their part. It would much more difficult for them all if you are obviously a man."

I shrugged. "Actually," I said, "now I'm committed to doing it, I think I would want to go the whole hog."

Bev grinned at me. "Thanks, Ben," she said. "I love you."

"I love you too," I said.

***

We agreed to call a halt after that. Bev would order a wig and some boobs on the internet, and I went home wearing my new corset, determined I was going to pull in my waist those few extra inches. It was fortunate, I realized, that I didn't currently have a girlfriend — but then, that was hardly a novel circumstance.

A couple of days later, Bev telephoned me. Her internet orders had all arrived and she wanted me to go over and try them on.

"There's one other thing," she said. You obviously need some good make-up and it's a bit beyond my capabilities. You remember I told you about Sharon, who's a beautician? I'd like to ask her to come over and do it for you. Are you OK with that?"

My heart gave a little lurch at being seen by another person, but I steeled myself. "It seems sensible, Bev," I said. "I'm just a little nervy at being seen, but I have to get used to that before next Wednesday. Does she really need to see me before the day?"

"Definitely. She might have to especially order some cosmetics for you. You are, after all, not a run of the mill client. I could see if she's free this afternoon, and we could try on the other things which came this morning. "

***

"Sharon is coming round at three," Bev said when I entered her flat. "That gives us a couple of hours to try on your other things."

"It's not going to take that long to try on the wig and put the padding into the bra cups, is it?" I asked.

"It's a bit more than that," she said. "I took your words to heart about wanting to go the whole hog."

"OK, I don't really want to marry Joe," I hastily said.

"You'll have to fight me for him, first," she said. "But no, I really appreciated how you wanted to get into the role you're taking on, so I lashed out a bit with the female bits."

"You mean the padding for the bra?"

"I actually got something a bit better than that. As you said, it was always going to be difficult stuffing a bra when the dress has such a low cut top. So I got you a Bustlet."

"What's a Bustlet?"

She bent over to reach inside a large box which was on the floor by the wall. "This is a Bustlet," she said, lifting out some heavy object.

She plonked a pair of tits on the table. Well, not just a pair of tits, there was the upper part of the chest and shoulders to go with them.

"It fits like a crop top," she said, "and you don't get anything more realistic than this."

"Bloody hell!"

"Do you want to try it on?"

"Er..." To be honest, I was itching to do so, but thought I shouldn't appear too keen. "I guess so." I unbuttoned my shirt and removed it.

"We have to spread this anti-perspirant gel over you first," Bev said. "There are two types: the green is for short term use, the red for longer term. To be honest, I only got that in case the green wasn't very effective. After all, you'll only be in it for a few hours on the day."

I shrugged compliance as Bev pulled on a disposable plastic glove and proceeded to smear the green gel over me. Then she took off the glove and picked up the Bustlet.

"Lift up your arms and we'll feed those through the armholes first. Then we can slide the whole thing down your body."

It worked perfectly and in just a few seconds, I had sprouted the kind of tits to die for. It was all I could do to stop myself grabbing them and giving them a squeeze.

"What do you think?"

"Brilliant," I said. "Absolutely brilliant. They look just like the real thing."

"They should feel like the real thing, as well. Hang on, there's a remote control in the box which alters the sensitivity." She reached into the box again and pulled out a small remote, pointed it at me and pressed a button.

Zing! My tits came alive. I could feel them bouncing slightly, as I jumped at the new sensation.

"Blimey." I did cup a breast in my hand that time and could feel my breast being squeezed by my own hand. "That's really impressive."

"I didn't know whether I was doing the right thing in buying them. I thought you might be a bit stuffy about it."

"Me? Stuffy? Never let it be said."

"That's good, because I got you a vagina as well."

There was a brief silence as I tried to grasp her words. "You got me a vagina."

"Well, you said you wanted to throw yourself into it totally, and I noticed that the company who made the Bustlet also make a thing called a Hiplet, which pads out your thighs and gives you a vagina. I thought that nothing could give you the feeling of being a woman like a vagina."

I couldn't argue with that.

She was turning round to the box on the floor again, and this time she pulled out a pair of hips and bum. Sure enough, at the top of the thighs was a beautiful pussy.

"Blimey!"

"Apparently, it can really be used for sex with a man, but if you're looking towards Joe, you'll still have to fight me for him."

"But it means that any men who see me will be thinking of fucking me, and they could too."

"You're assuming that all men will want to have sex with you."

I supposed there were some men who wouldn't think of sex when they saw my huge knockers poking out of my low cut dress, but probably not that many.

"Are you going to spread that green gel over my genitals?"

She grinned. "You'll have to go to the bathroom and do it yourself. I'm sure you're well practised at that sort of thing."

Ten minutes later, I stood before her, totally woman from neck to toe.

"I don't think anyone would doubt you're a woman now," Bev said.

"The problem is, they're not going to see me naked," I replied. "Can we have another go at getting into the dress?"

***

Sharon was superb. She totally transformed my face, creating shadow where there should have been none, and softening the male lines. But what made her superb was that she explained what she was doing all the time, and then wiped off the make-up and allowed me to practice over and over again. By the end, I was nowhere near as accomplished as she was, but I could do a reasonable job for myself. We booked her to come on the following Wednesday to give me my bridal make-up.

Provided I continued to make progress with my corset training, I reasoned, everything was on track for me to be the beautiful blushing bride on the following Wednesday. I left with an invitation to dinner on Friday evening.

"Why not come over beforehand," Bev said, "and dress for dinner?"

"Dress," I asked, "as in Dress?"

"Precisely. I'll select one of my posh frocks. It'll give Joe opportunity to get to meet his new bride before the wedding."

***

The dinner went superbly. I was wearing one of Bev's pre-pregnancy evening dresses in which I looked and felt great. Joe had been duly appreciative of my transformation, and had behaved towards me as though I really was a beautiful woman. But it was as we came to the end of the meal that Bev dropped her bombshell.

"Now we have got to know the new Beverley, I think it's time we practised the Kiss."

There was a moment's deathly silence from both of us, before we broke into indignant protest.

"No way!" from Joe, and "Get stuffed!" from me.

Bev smiled calmly at us. "You're going to have to do it for the photographs. You'd better get used to it now."

"We could miss out that photo..."

"Don't be silly," Bev said. "Every set of wedding photographs has to have the Kiss. Your parents, Joe, would immediately smell a rat if it wasn't there. So you two had better get snogging."

We looked at each other, but made no move.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Bev snorted. "Good job one of us had the sense to think about this beforehand, otherwise you'd make a right mess up of it on the day."

"Joe," she continued. "You have been dining this evening with two beautiful ladies. Beverley is your fiancée. You love her, you want to kiss her. Beverley," she turned to me, "you are a pretty girl who is marrying this gorgeous hunk of a man. You want him to kiss you. So get on with it."

When neither of us moved, Bev repeated. "Oh, for heaven's sake, I'm going to stack some of these plates in the dishwasher. By the time I return, you two had better be snogging one another."

She picked up their plates and departed to the kitchen.

We eyed each other, both acknowledging the accuracy of her words, but not wanting to take the plunge. Still, I thought, I've come this far, and I'd already committed to going the whole hog.

I fluttered my mascara covered eyelashes at him and tried to speak as softly as possible, "Oh Joe. I've been longing to do this all evening." I stood up and leant across the table, exposing my beautiful breasts to perfection. I'd been amazed throughout the meal by the way Joe's eyes had been drawn to my cleavage. Although Joe knew he'd been looking at a man, he couldn't stop looking at my tits. It did the trick now for as I moved my lips to his, he responded, and kissed me back.

"Oh Joe, I murmured, and nibbled his upper lip.

"This is crazy," he said, and made to pull away.

"The whole idea is crazy," I said. "Do you want to come clean with your parents?" As I waited for his answer, for some stupid reason I was willing him not to say yes.

"Oh, what the hell," he said, and he grabbed my shoulders and kissed me hard.

It took both of us a few seconds to realise that the flashes were not of stars exploding, but of Bev holding a camera and photographing us.

"What are you doing?" we both yelled.

"That was fantastic," Bev said. "I thought that if you two are not so good on the day, we could edit one of these pictures into the other."

I looked at Joe and said, "It will be fantastic on the day. We're both up for it."

Joe nodded and Bev gave a satisfied smile.

***

On Sunday, I at last managed to put on and fasten my wedding dress. I had been wearing my corset every day, and rigorously reducing the waist size according to the schedule laid down by Bev. At last, I looked absolutely gorgeous in it. Bev and I decided that since I wasn't really marrying Joe, it wouldn't be bad luck for him to see it. He couldn't take his eyes off me. I think both him and me had almost forgotten I was male.

So when Bev said, "I think you should practice the Kiss again," neither he nor I demurred. He walked slowly up to me, took me in his arms and softly planted his lips on mine. Hell, he knew how to kiss a girl. He had a way of moving his lips which sent quivers through my body, and all I could do was to hold on and hope it would go on forever.

Eventually, Bev said, "OK, I think both of you have managed to overcome your prejudices. Well done, guys."

Joe slowly pulled his head away, taking those sensuous lips with him, and I tried to look as though it was all run of the mill for a talented actor like me, but inside my head, I really was that girl wearing her magnificent wedding dress, kissing her groom just days before her marriage to the man she loved.

"Well," Bev said, "I think everything is going to go smoothly, don't you?"

We both agreed that it was, and I went home on Sunday with an excitement tingling through me.

On Monday morning, the bombshell exploded.

***

"Ben, we've got an emergency. Can you get over here straightaway?"

"Is there something wrong with your pregnancy?"

"No, I'm fine, Ben, but it's to do with our little plan. Please, Ben, get over here now."

I drove straight over, rather than walking as I normally did. Bev let me in and led the way to their kitchen, where Joe was sitting at the counter uttering a continuous string of profanities.

"Bastard. Fucking bastard. Fucking, fucking bastard..."

"What's happened?"

"I'll tell you what's fucking happened," Joe said. "My fucking parents have just telephoned from fucking Heathrow Airport to say they've flown in for the wedding. Why couldn't they just fucking keep away? Why do they always have to fucking interfere in my life?"

"Christ!" I said. "That blows everything."

Joe turned to Bev. "They're going to call you a slut," he said, "and I won't have it."

"There is a way round this," Bev said.

We both looked at her expectantly. Suddenly, my stomach turned a somersault. I knew what she was going to suggest.

"You're crazy," I said. "No way. Absolutely no way."

"What?" Joe said

"It would work," Bev said.

"What?" Joe said.

"Of course it can't," I said. "It's impossible."

"What?" Joe shouted.

"Bev is suggesting that I become her for the next three days. That I could deceive your parents face to face, rather than by using a photograph album separated by three thousand miles from each other. It's crazy."

"That could work," Joe said.

"Don't be stupid."

"Friday night and last night," Joe said, "the way you looked and the way you behaved, you could pull it off."

"But they'd want to talk to me, ask me questions. What about my voice? I couldn't keep up the pretence for three minutes, never mind three days."

"If you just talk softly, Ben, I think it will be all right. But you will give it a try, won't you? For the sake of Joe and me, and our marriage and our unborn child?"

They both paused, awaiting my answer, but how could I do anything else?

I nodded. "I'll give it my best."

"Thanks, Ben," Joe said. "You are the best." He looked at Bev. "But what do we do now?"

"I have just become Benjamina, Beverley's pregnant twin sister," she said. "Which means I'd better move out of this flat, damn sharpish." She turned to me. "Have you got your car with you?"

I nodded.

"Right. Let's pack everything up. Joe, do you know how long before your parents arrive?"

"They hadn't gone through Immigration when they telephoned. Say an hour to clear Heathrow, an hour to drive here."

"Then let's shift," I said, "but Joe and I do the work; Bev supervises."

"Don't be stupid," Bev started to say, but Joe interrupted.

"No, don't you be stupid. That's our baby you're carrying, so Ben and I will do all the work, and you can be bossy like you always are." He gently kissed her on the lips.

She gave him a big hug.

"Joseph," I said. "Can I remind you that we are getting married in three days' time. Will you please leave my sister, Benjie, alone, and help me pack my things?"

"Great," he said. "Now I've got two women to boss me around."

***

An hour later, we'd shifted all of Bev's things back to the flat which she and I had shared for seven years. She'd never properly moved out, so it was a lot simpler than it might have been.

"Hell," Joe said. "I've just remembered I was supposed to book a table for lunch. I'd better book it for five of us, and then we can introduce Bev's sister to them."

"Better not," Bev said. "It will be very obvious that you're more intimate with me than you are with Beverley. They're sure to suspect something."

Bev's words made good sense, but they made my stomach roll again. Meeting prospective in-laws for the first time would be bad enough, but to do it whilst trying to pass for the opposite sex in public, and all without the help of Bev was simply terrifying.

"Let's sort out a pretty dress to wear that will show you off nicely," Bev said seeing my face.

"Don't make it too revealing," Joe warned. "That would be almost as bad as being exposed as a man."

"No it wouldn't." Bev and I said the words almost in unison.

"Come on, Beverley," she said to me. "Let's see what we can find."

As we went into her bedroom, she added, "I think you'd better use that red gel for your Bustlet and Hiplet from now on. You remember, the green stuff was only for a few hours' use, and I suspect that you're now going to be wearing them continually until it's all over on Wednesday."

It seemed sensible, so I made the switch.

***

"Hello Mother, hello Father. I'd like you to meet my fiancée, Beverley. Beverley, this is my mother and father."

"Oh, what a lovely girl you are," Joe's mother said, shaking hands with me. "Call me Anne, and this is Luke."

"Hello Luke," I said turning to where Joe's father stood up for me and shaking his hand, too. "It's really nice to meet you both."

Under both Bev and Joe's instruction, I had been given a Country Girl look. Bev didn't quite have a gingham dress, but it was the same shape and created the right effect of innocence and naivety. If only they knew.

"We really didn't know what you'd be like, Beverley. Joseph has such strange tastes."

"Not that strange, Anne," Luke said. "I think Beverley would please the eye of any red-bloodied male."

"She's certainly very shapely," Anne admitted, "but clearly not one of those girls who are too pretty for their own good. It's so easy for girls to go astray in this world."

To me, grudging approval seemed a pretty good response, but I could see Joe was annoyed.

"Your idea of going astray is a bit different from the rest of the world, Mother."

"I hope you two haven't been doing anything untoward," Anne said.

"We have kissed," I quickly confessed, hoping to defuse what looked like turning into a row. "But nothing more, have we Joe?"

Joe suddenly relaxed and smiled at me. "No, he said. Beverley won't let me go any further. Not until we're married, she says."

"Very sensible, too," Anne said. "I can see we're going to get along together well."

"Anne," I said, "there's one thing which puzzles me."

"Ah, yes dear," she replied. "You're wondering about the wedding dress I sent you, and why I'm not as shapely as you are."

"I don't understand how it could ever have fitted you."

"Well it didn't," Anne said. "But when Joe told us you weren't having a wedding dress, I was so saddened for you, I bought one secondhand which I thought would fit you. We weren't planning to come here then, so I didn't think you'd discover my little white lie, and I knew Joe would never think of it."

"You lied to us," Joe said, "so you could manipulate Bev into wearing the dress."

"As I said, just a little white lie." She turned back to me. "Now dear, have you got your trousseau ready for your honeymoon?"

"Not really," I said.

"We weren't planning to go on honeymoon," Joe said.

"Oh, you must go on honeymoon," Anne said. She turned to Luke and said, "Luke, book a nice hotel for them."

"Yes, dear."

"Then this afternoon," Anne said, "we'll go shopping for clothes for you."

"There's no need," I started to protest, but Anne cut me short.

"Of course you must, my dear. After all, we wouldn't want the rest of the family to see you go off on honeymoon in such cheap clothes, would we?"

The insult to my clothes was nothing compared to the words Joe picked up. "Rest of the family. What rest of the family?"

"Oh, didn't we tell you dear. When we let everyone know that you were getting married in England, they all said they would fly out here for the wedding. I think there must be about sixty who are coming, even though you didn't give us much notice, dear."

"Now, Beverley." She turned back to me. "Luke and I are just dying to go to Oxford Street, aren't we dear? I think you'd better come along with us."

As a bloke, my heart would normally have sunk into my shoes, just as I guessed Luke's was doing at that moment. On the other hand, if someone was going to buy me some nice clothes...

"But Bev and I wanted a small, no fuss wedding," Joe shouted, interrupting my thoughts. "Why do you have to interfere? I'm thirty-two, Mother. Why can't you treat me as an adult?"

"Perhaps if you behaved like an adult, dear, we'd treat you like one."

"Yeah? Well perhaps if you'd ever treated me like one, I'd have learnt how to behave like one. I'm going out for a smoke."

"But you don't smoke, dear."

"No? Well just watch the smoke coming out of my head."

He stood up and stormed out of the restaurant. There was a moment's silence after he'd gone, as the other diners stared open-mouthed at the scene. Then one or two people started to talk, no doubt about what they had just witnessed.

"Well, dear," Anne said to me, "I'm sorry you've had to witness Joseph at his worst. I hope it won't put you off marrying him."

"I think I'd better go out and find him," I said. "Please excuse me."

Joe was standing just outside the door, in the spot where smokers normally huddle. Well aware we would be on full view to all the diners in the restaurant, I went straight up to Joe and put my arms around his neck.

"I think you played that just right," I said, adding as he looked disconcerted by my action, "and bear in mind that we can be seen from the restaurant."

"I didn't play it at all," he said. "I lost my temper with them. How could they humiliate me like that in front of you? They always do that to me, and I always feel so inadequate."

"That's what parents do," I said. "In any case, they did it in front of me, not Bev. It doesn't matter about me."

He brightened a little. "I suppose you're right."

"And remember that all these sixty people who are going to gatecrash your wedding are going to the wrong wedding."

He brightened even more. "You're right. Why should I get upset about them rearranging my wedding, when they're actually rearranging the dummy wedding?"

"Actually," I said, "we have nothing arranged to rearrange with the dummy wedding, apart from hiring the church and arranging for your friend to play the part of vicar. We need to start telling all your family the details. What about catering for them?"

"Hell! That's why we wanted to keep it a small wedding. And do it all ourselves."

"Your wedding is being kept to yourselves," I said, "but someone has to organise the dummy wedding. I think that's a job your mother would enjoy, don't you?"

He actually laughed. "You're right. That's brilliant, Beverley. Thanks." Then he kissed me.

I think that by now I'd got into the mindset of playing the part of Beverley, willing myself to believe I was her, and I think he was doing the same. To me, the kiss was a bit of a shock, but conscious that my every move was being watched, I allowed my mouth to open, and his tongue flicked inside. Let that shock the buggers. But then we both came to our senses, and I pushed him away.

"I think you'd better go back and apologise to your parents," I said. "Meanwhile, I have to go and repair my make-up." I grinned at him. "Men!" I added.

***

I walked into the men's toilets by mistake. The guy standing at the urinal gave me a quick glance, and then a long look. What's he looking at, I wondered, and then it hit me. "Sorry," I said. "Silly mistake."

By the time I got back to the table, Anne was in the middle of arranging a wedding for sixty people in two days time. In fact, the afternoon shopping was abandoned in favour of inspecting the potential venues for the reception.

"Never mind," she told me, "we'll go to Oxford Street tomorrow, and spend all day there."

"That's great," I said, as I thought about all the nice clothes I could get. "Thank you, Anne."

***

I actually got on great with Anne and Luke over the next few days. OK, they did funny things like saying grace before we could eat a meal, and looking down their noses if they thought Joe and I were getting too familiar with each other, but you got used to that. Even Joe seemed to have cheered up — I think it was the thought of his mother doing all the hard work in arranging a wedding which was totally false. I felt a bit guilty about it all, actually. If they had been my parents, I'd have simply told them the truth about Bev's pregnancy, but clearly, there was a long-standing difficulty between Joe and his parents.

We'd agreed we wouldn't introduce Bev to Joe's parents until Tuesday evening, when we were going out for a pre-wedding meal, so we didn't see much of her during the day as she stayed in our flat. Meanwhile, Joe and I went dashing about with Anne and Luke, checking the possible venues for the reception, talking with florists, inspecting the church we'd rented for Wednesday afternoon (ostensibly for a photo shoot), and getting the orders of service printed. It was that latter thing which caused the difficulty, as Anne wanted to know what hymns we were having, what was the format of service and all kinds of other things which neither Joe nor I had a clue about. Joe had virtually washed his hands of the whole lot, and so all that sort of stuff came down to me.

I realised we would also have difficulty with the guy playing the part of the vicar, as he was only someone from Joe's work who was an amateur actor. He hadn't expected he'd have to go through the whole wedding ceremony with considerable attention to detail. We deliberately ensured that he could only be reached by email or texting. The last thing we wanted was for Anne to start cross-examining him about the service.

The final problem on Monday came as I was getting undressed for bed. "I can't get off the Bustlet and Hiplet," I called out to Bev.

"Ah," she said, coming into my bedroom, "I meant to tell you about that."

My heart sank. "Tell me about what?"

"The red gel you used today is semi-permanently bonded to your skin. I'm afraid you're stuck in them until your next layer of skin is shed, probably in about two weeks' time."

"I'm stuck like this for two weeks?"

She nodded. "Actually, I was lying," she said.

"Phew." I gave a gasp of relief. "You had me going there. How do I get them off?"

"No," she said, "I was telling the truth about them being stuck on for two weeks, but I was lying when I said I meant to tell you. This morning, I realised the red gel would be crucial to making this work, and I thought if I told you the truth, you'd reject the idea out of hand."

"Oh yee of little faith," I said. "Look, the issue was about whether it would work and not whether it's inconvenient or even embarrassing for me. OK?"

She grinned at me. "Thanks, Ben."

"Beverley," I said. "You're Benjamina and I'm Beverley."

***

With all the issues to resolve, we delayed the trip to Oxford Street until late Tuesday afternoon. But within just a few hours, Anne seemed to buy up half the street for my trousseau. Again, I felt rather guilty since I was hardly going to wear them, and it would be ages before Bev would be able to get into clothes that size. On the other hand, it was wonderful having someone buy beautiful clothes for you, so I told my conscience to shut up.

Anne, Luke and I were quite late getting back from Oxford Street, so we arranged we would meet Bev and Joe at the restaurant. There was no sign of Joe when we arrived, but Bev was already there.

I introduced her to Anne and Luke as Benjamina and we all chatted amicably. Benjie was wearing her new wedding ring, and she told us how her husband was out in the Gulf on business, and unfortunately was not able to return for the wedding.

I just wondered how she was going to square all these lies up with her in-laws in a few years' time.

Joe finally turned up thirty minutes late.

"Where on earth have you been," Anne said to her son.

"The vicar suddenly found he had a prior engagement, so I've been trying to find a replacement at short notice."

"But surely, he'd committed to marrying you when you booked the church. He can't just drop out on a whim."

"Perhaps it was the funeral of an elderly parishioner," Bev suggested, trying to be helpful.

"But it's no problem," Luke said, "my brother Mark is a preacher at our church back home. He'll be happy to officiate."

There was a pregnant pause from all three of us, which Anne quickly filled.

"Well that sounds an excellent idea. At least we know he'll do it properly."

That, the three of us knew, was the problem.

"Well, I'm not sure..." I started to say.

"Call him now," Anne commanded and Luke obediently pulled a phone from his pocket and started to make the call.

"Mother," Joe said, "can we go outside, or do you want to argue here?"

She set her face in a stern line, then stood up and followed him out of the restaurant.

Luke was talking over his phone by now, so I whispered to Bev, "Do you think Joe's going to tell Anne the whole truth?"

"Who knows?" She moved her head closer to mine. "But it doesn't matter about Mark taking the service."

"It doesn't?"

"He has no legal jurisdiction in this country. He has no more right to perform a wedding than you or I."

"OK, it's all fixed up," Luke said with a grin of satisfaction on his face. "Mark will officiate at the wedding tomorrow."

"Oh thank you so much, Luke," I said. It had been an incredibly stressful few days, and it just seemed so natural for me to lean over and kiss him on the cheek.

He seemed really pleased at my reaction, and said, "Joe and his mother have always been at loggerheads and it seems to be getting worse. But I think you and I will have a - what do you Brits call it - a Special Relationship."

"Yes," I said. I picked up my glass of wine and held it up as a toast. "Here's to our Special Relationship," I said.

Luke did the same whilst Bev politely tilted her glass of mineral water.

"To our special relationship," Luke toasted, giving me a nice smile.

But the smiles were wiped from our faces a few moments later, when Anne returned to the table alone, and said, "Joe's gone home and he says he's calling off the wedding."

"Oh!" I know this sounds completely stupid, but I felt tears pricking my eyes. "I'd better go back to the flat."

"No!" Anne and Bev said it simultaneously.

"You don't know what might happen if you did that," Anne said in a voice which suggested we all knew what would happen.

"It would be better if I went to see him," Bev said.

"Oh." It was such an obvious action that I couldn't believe I'd not thought of it. "Would you do that, Benjie?"

"I think your virtue is safe, my dear," Anne added.

"Benjie," I said, "when you find out, you'd better ring me to tell me whether my wedding is on or off.

"Yes," Bev said. "I'll do that."

"But you'll see her back at the flat," Anne said, confused.

"I meant ring me here," I said. "Because the three of us are going to enjoy our meal."

"We certainly are," Luke said, giving me another smile. I smiled back at him.

"Don't eat too much," Bev said. "Remember, you have to get into your dress tomorrow."

"Let's hope so," I said.

"I'll drink to that," Luke said, holding up his glass.

***

It was gone midnight and I was at home before Bev rang me. "Sorry," she said. "It took longer than I expected to resolve our problems."

"You mean the sex was good," I said.

"Yes. But we've decided to go ahead with both weddings; that is assuming you're still up for it."

I paused. I'd been having mixed feelings ever since I'd got home. Obviously, it would be easier if my wedding did not go ahead. It had always seemed an over-reaction to a relatively simple problem, and all kinds of things could go wrong. But on the other hand, I had thought myself into my role. I was Beverley, wanting to make a good impression with Joe's parents, and yes, wanting to get married. At the same time, sixty of Joe's relatives had come all the way from America on the expectation they would see him getting married and to wish him and his new wife well. They would be really upset if it was all called off.

"Is there any chance," I asked Bev, "that you could invite everyone to your wedding?"

"Absolutely none," she said. "Joe is quite adamant he doesn't want them anywhere near his wedding."

"So I'll see you at the Registry Office at nine-thirty and then get me to the church on time. Good luck, my lovely sister."

"Thanks, my wonderful sister. Tomorrow, we shall both be beautiful, blushing brides."

***

Bev and Joe's wedding went without a hitch. Sure, it was embarrassing when the Registrar looked around the waiting room and said to Bev, "Are you waiting for your brother, Benjamin Cook, to act as witness?" and I stood up wearing one of Bev's smart suits and said, "That's me." But we'd realised that with me glued inside the Bustlet and Hiplet, there was no way around the embarrassment. The Registrar was totally professional about it and simply smiled nicely.

We were out of there just after ten and Joe and Bev were husband and wife. Bev and I headed back to our flat where we were meeting Sharon, who was going to give me a makeover, whilst Joe went off to his flat to deal with the final arrangements, hopefully without having another row with his parents.

Sharon spent hours doing my hair — gone was the wig I'd been wearing for the last few days, and she gave me a hair extension; my nails — no bride can walk down the aisle with nails like mine, I was told, so I now sported long talons, making me unable to drink a cup of tea without incredible difficulty; and my make-up — I was fine about that. Finally, I was slipping into my wonderful dress and feeling fantastic.

Luke had agreed to give me away and he was waiting for me outside the church when the limousine dropped me off, only a few minutes late. The photographer insisted on taking several photographs of us at the lych-gate and at the church entrance. Then we stood in the vestibule, Luke's brother, Mark, dressed in his preacher vestments nodded to the organist, and the Bridal March commenced.

It was like being a princess. They all turned and smiled at me as I entered and started walking down the aisle, and I could hear them making comments such as, "Isn't she beautiful," and "Joe's a lucky guy." I stared at Joe, my groom, as he stood waiting for me at the front of the church, and grinned like a ten-year-old.

I can barely remember the events that followed, until we went into the ante-chamber to sign the register. There was a woman sitting there, presumably the church warden, who seemed vaguely familiar, and she suddenly looked at me, clearly with the same feeling. I dearly hoped she was not going to out me. Things could get decidedly tricky.

We signed the register, as did Gavin and Sharon as witnesses, and then did it all over again for the benefit of the photographer. It was as Joe and I were standing like lemons waiting for the photographer to take his photographs of Gavin and Sharon signing the book, when Joe made some trivial remark to the woman about how nice it must be to work in such a beautiful church.

"It is beautiful, isn't it," she agreed, "but I don't work here." Seeing Joe's lack of understanding, she added, "A Church of England vicar normally officiates at weddings at this church, but today you have a visiting preacher, who cannot. Therefore, I have to come as Registrar to make your wedding legal. The preacher only contacted us this morning; you are very lucky we could fit you in. You may have gone through all this wonderful wedding and not been legally married at the end."

Afterwards, I told everyone that my corset must have been too tight, or perhaps it was just the stress of the day. But the sudden buzzing that went through my head seemed to have a life of its own, and the room started to spin.

***

"Are you all right now, Ben?" Bev quietly said to me. Sharon was standing besides her. She had looked after me when I'd fainted, shoeing everyone else out of the room and raising my feet and letting me rest for a few minutes. Then she had helped me to my feet and and into the limousine, which brought us to the hotel where we were holding the reception.

"Yes," I said. "I'm feeling much better, now. I guess it was a combination of things: the stress, my tight corset, the beauty of the occasion."

"And?"

She guessed I had missed out the most important of them all. "Let's talk about it later," I said. "Otherwise, we're going to miss my wedding reception."

We were in a small ante-room and I could hear a mumble of polite conversation as drinks were served in the next room. I smiled at Bev. "Where's my husband?"

She smiled back. "I think you mean my husband." She didn't realise we had both spoken the truth. "He's entertaining his family. If you're ready, we can go and join them and have fun."

Her words were clearly tinged with irony, and I could see why as soon as I entered. Most of the guests had refused the glass of sherry and instead were standing like prunes, holding glasses of fruit juice.

"OK," I said to Bev, "let's party".

It certainly was a lousy party, but there were three conversations which burned a place in my memory.

"It was a real surprise that you're such a dish," said Joe's brother, Abraham. What he actually meant was that I had a superb pair of knockers, as his eyes had been unashamedly staring at them and nothing else since I'd entered the room.

"Well, really," he qualified his remark, "the surprise was that you're female at all."

"Sorry," I said.

"Well, surely you knew. Joseph is not natural in his tastes. In fact," he moved his head closer to add intimacy, "when you find him lacking in bed, you can always come to me. I know how to pleasure a woman."

"Well in that case," I said, "why don't you fuck off?"

I moved further into the room, thinking it was easy to see why Joe had been upset about the arrival of his family.

"Beverley," Anne greeted me, "you're looking very pretty. I'm glad I was able to give you that dress."

"Thank you, Anne," I said.

"Now that we are mother and daughter in-law, can I have a word? I didn't like to say anything before the wedding, but I do need to warn you about Joseph. It's the reason why we had to send him abroad."

"You sent him abroad?"

"You see, dear, he developed some unnatural relationships. He was rather too close to some of his men friends. In fact, when he takes you to bed tonight, you must make certain he - well you may not understand this - but you must make certain he doesn't try to do it the other way."

"Oh, that's all right," I said. "We've talked about this and we're both agreed that we won't do anything like that. Not yet anyway. Maybe in a year or two, when we want to have babies. I suppose then we'll have to start doing it the other way." I walked off, leaving Anne with her mouth wide open.

"Heck, you look ravishing," Luke intercepted me as I purposefully moved across the floor towards Joe, who was nervously watching my progress towards him.

"Thank you, Luke," I said.

"Listen," he said, "if you find Joseph a little lacking in some areas..."

"I won't look in your direction," I said, and walked past him and on to Joe.

"Darling," I said. "I need to give you something." I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a great big kiss.

The kiss went on for so long that people started to applaud. When we finally broke up, I said, "My darling husband. Will you take me up to our room, now, and make love to me?"

Fortunately, we were close to the main exit, so we managed to leave without shaking too many hands (in Joe's case) or being kissed (in mine).

Bev was waiting for us by the door, and we left the room together and got into the lift without speaking. But as soon as the lift doors closed, she asked the question.

"Were Joe's family really telling you that he was gay?"

"You know?" Joe gasped

"Oh, Joe, you silly idiot. Of course I know you're attracted to men and women. I tried to drop a few hints that I knew, but you were always very defensive about it, so in the end I thought I would let time bring it out.

"I do love you, Bev."

"I know," she said. "That's why I married you and that's why I'm having your baby."

The lift stopped at our floor and the doors opened. "I'll leave you guys here," I said.

"You can hardly do that," Bev said. "Everyone will assume that Joe has failed at the first hurdle, and they'll probably give you a family gang-bang."

"In any case," she added, "Sharon told me about the Registrar being at the church, so that means he's your husband as well. Come on, sis. Let's make love to our husband."

***

It was just before dawn before we got to talk properly - as opposed to some very improper talk, along with lots of animal-like grunts and moans.

"I thought if you found out about me," Joe said, "you'd break up with me."

"And I did," Bev said, "and I haven't."

"I can understand now," I said, "why Joe didn't want his family here. What is really a mystery is how did such a great guy as Joe come out of a family like that?"

"I think," Bev said, "that it shows the importance of being open with your loved ones. Don't you agree, Beverley?"

I gasped a little. "Erm," I prevaricated. "I'm not..."

"Remember, it was you who first pointed Joe out to me when we were in the pub. You said he was giving me the eye. It was a long time before I worked out it was you he was fascinated by."

I flushed and then took a deep breath and talked. "I thought Joe was the most beautiful person I had ever seen," I said. "I knew when I pointed him out to you, you'd have no inhibitions about going over to him, shoving your tits under his nose and chatting him up."

"I thought the same about him as you did," she said," but I couldn't understand why he hadn't already been pounced on by some sexy girl, and why he even looked twice at a woman with a nose like mine."

"It was probably," Joe said, "because she took me to bed that evening, and showed me that doing it the other way can be even better."

We all grinned, especially me because I'd just discovered that having a vagina and using it was the most divine thing on earth. (Well, I suppose I should say that having a vagina with Sensotouch was the most divine thing on earth.)

"Where do we go from here?" I asked. "I can understand if you two..."

"We're both married to Joe," Bev said, "so we have to ensure we keep him satisfied - make certain he doesn't ever need to look elsewhere in either direction. Are you up for it?"

I gulped, nervous and excited at the same time - but then I guess that's how girls are on their wedding day. "I'm up for it," I said.

"That sounds," Joe said, "like a marriage made in heaven."