A Summer in Satin

A Summer in Satin by Aleisha James

We rolled over so that Sally was on top, her knees clutching at my sides. She reared back as I continued to move my hips rhythmically. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back as she looked up at the ceiling before falling forward to kiss me as I raised my face to meet hers. Grunting with passion I strained to reach her magnificent breasts with my lips. She placed one hand under her left breast and lifted it towards me. Her nipples were fully erect and she moaned as I flicked my tongue over her protruding teat.

Her satin soft skin felt warm and sensual beneath my lips and hands. She began to gasp for breath as our motion quickened. Suddenly she rolled over, taking me with her. Now I was back on top, and she threw her hands out to her sides, grasping and tearing at the sheets as our beast with two backs neared climax. I drove into her with increasing force, my own passion beginning to overwhelm me. She shuddered and cried out just as I came! I continued pumping for several strokes, and then, exhausted, lowered my body on top of hers.

We lay in each others' arms, as I gently kissed the sweat from her neck. She held me tight when I tried to roll off, and we laid still for several minutes.

She let me roll off the second time I tried and I looked at the clock. It was almost 2:30: I had a class at 3:15.

"Time to go!" I said as I climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom.

"I just have time for a shower before heading to class"

She slowly followed me into the bathroom and sat on the toilet as I opened the shower door and turned on the water.

I waited for a moment, until the water was warm and then entered the shower. I had barely gotten my hair wet when I heard the shower door open and sensed her climbing in with me.

We kissed, with water running over our faces and bodies. She picked up the soap and gently washed me all over. I found myself getting hard again, and she playfully squeezed my cock while kissing me warmly.

What with me taking my turn soaping her as well and each of us drying the other with a towel, it was past 3 o'clock by the time I left her apartment. I was going to be late for class, but it was well worth it. Indeed, I spent most of my time in class wondering, not for the first time, how it was that she had chosen me as her boyfriend.

Sally Green could have had almost any man she wanted. She was an extremely intelligent young woman who was even more beautiful than she was smart. I, on the other hand, was perhaps as smart as she was, but nobody would confuse me for a male model or a jock.

We were almost the same height. She stood maybe an inch shorter than my 5ft 7inches and when we wrestled as part of our sex play I found that she possessed nearly as much strength as I did. She had been a swimmer when she was in high school and she had the broad shoulders typical of women athletes. The nearest I had come to being on any school team was playing chess in the chess club. Not that I hadn't tried. But I simply lacked the physique to compete athletically.

I would never had had the courage to ask Sally out. It was she who asked me for a date, and I had come close to turning her down, fearing that it was some kind of joke. But she convinced me that she was more interested in a man's intellect than in his physical appearance. She also told me that I was mistaken to think that beautiful women always had it easy when it came to dating. Most men felt they had no chance, so they never dared to approach her, while most of those who felt able to do so were egotistical jerks in whom she had no interest. Men whose egos were all wrapped up in how virile or masculine they were held no interest for her.

So she had learned that if she liked someone, she often had to make the first move.

I was so happy that she had done so. We had been dating for six weeks now, and had gone to bed for the first time three weeks ago. Now we had sex almost every day, and I was happier than I could remember. I suspected that my marks would suffer; I could hardly remember the last time I had puled a long study session, and finals were coming up soon. I should have been worried, but I wasn't.

What did have me worried was that summer vacation would start right after the exams were over. Sally had told me that she would be spending the summer in Europe with her parents who had a place in the south of France. They planned to be there for almost six months, although Sally would return early to return to school in the fall. There was no way that I could go, even if I were invited. So I would be apart, and who knew whether her attraction to me would survive.

She assured me that she was falling in love with me and that we would be together again in September. I needed her so much that I pretended to myself as well as to her that I believed her. It was the only way I could contemplate the coming void in my life. I believe that I was by then addicted to her. Perhaps that is what infatuation is: physical addiction.

Whatever it was, we continued to see each other and make love throughout exam time. We were able to slow down enough to do some studying and I felt that I had probably scraped through all my courses, although with much lower marks than I had expected just two months ago.

Sally hardly spoke about her impending trip to Europe during those last few weeks. Then on what was going to be our last night, after one of our best sessions of love-making, she turned to me and looked me in the eyes.

You would have had to be there to appreciate my situation. I had been experiencing a mixture of warm contentment and mild depression. My beautiful lover was lying next to me, our mingled perspiration cooling on our skin. I could feel one of her breasts pressing lightly against my chest, and her left arm lay across my body. Her blue eyes looked into mine from a distance of maybe six inches.

"Baby, I'm not going to Europe" she said.

Hope flared inside me like a match in a darkened room. I looked back at her, my body tensing as I waited for the rest of it.

"I'm staying at home. I'll have the whole place to myself. I want you to come stay with me"

It was a fantasy come true. An entire summer with Sally; just the two of us in what I understood to be a palatial country estate. Did I mention earlier that her parents were rich?

"I'd love to Sally, but I've got to work this summer. I can't afford not to work if I want to come back here in September"

Did I mention earlier that my family was not rich?

"You don't have to, darling" she said. "We normally pay several people to look after the house in the summer. There's a couple who look after the inside of the house and two fellows who look after the outside, the garden and the pool and so on. Nothing special; we use contractors from the village to do most of the work. It's just that Daddy doesn't like to let things slide over the summer. I've got you an outside job"

I looked at her as my inner world brightened with every word I heard.

"That is, if you want to spend time with me" she pouted.

Sally pouting is an awesome sight, and my doubts vanished.

I pulled her towards me and kissed her passionately. I felt my body respond and within moments we were making love again.

So it was that I arrived at the Green estate one late May morning. Sally had driven up earlier while I stayed behind to smooth over my dropping my summer job and to try to get my deposit for the summer rent back from my landlord.

She must have been waiting for me because she greeted me as I climbed out of my car, which I had parked next to her new-model Mustang at a parking area to the left of the circular driveway.

I kissed her and then looked at the imposing residence where I was to spend the next few months.

It looked older than I had expected, more like what I imagined an English manor might look like than a California mansion. Ivy clung tightly to the faded red brick facade, and wisteria, or some similar vine, wrapped around trellises beside the upper windows. Broad, curved steps led to the enormous doors, while the house stretched out in either direction for many feet. I was to learn that there were over fifty rooms in this gigantic structure, although many of them were closed in the absence of the family. There were several suites of rooms for visitors, which Sally told me were rarely used.

"It's way too big. I think that's why my folks spend so much time abroad. They should sell it but Daddy says they'd never get enough for it"

She led me inside, where we were greeted by a woman apparently in her mid fifties, with short gray hair and a navy blue suit with a knee-length skirt.

"This is Mrs. Jansen" Sally said as she introduced us.

"Mrs. Jansen and her husband will be looking after us this summer"

"Pleased to meet you" Mrs. Jansen said, extending her hand for me to shake.

Wow! I thought to myself. This is like something out of the Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. Domestic servants!

I kept those thoughts to myself and said hello to Mrs. Jansen while looking about me.

The inside of the house was as impressive as the outside. The entrance led into a large, high lobby, with tiled floor and expensive looking paneling on the walls, which in turn were covered with elaborately framed paintings. Vases of freshly cut flowers added both color and fragrance to the space. A wide spiral staircase led upwards at the right rear of the entrance, will open double doors on either side led into rooms which I could barely glimpse. A hallway extended back into the house to the left of the spiral staircase.

"Mr. Hutcheon will be able to handle his own bags, Mrs. Jansen" Sally informed her.

"Very well, Miss Sally" she replied, turning to walk down the hallway.

I turned to look at Sally, and she embraced me. After a long, lingering kiss, she told me that I had better get my bags from my car and she would show me where I would be staying.

After I had retrieved my two bags, she led me up the staircase and down a long hallway punctuated by doors on either side. There were two doors at the end, facing each other. She opened the one on the left and let me enter first.

It was a large, airy room decorated in a somewhat spartan fashion. A King-size bed took up much of the space at the far end, and there were two antique-looking dressers, with brass handles on the drawers.

The floor was hardwood, but was covered by a large rug, which from its rich colors and elaborate design I suspected was Persian. To my left, as I walked in, were a series of closet doors and in the corner was a doorway which I saw led to a full bathroom. Two large windows allowed ample light into the room and gave a view out of the front of the house. I could tell that I was in a room on the far left corner as one looked at the house from outside. I put down my bags and walked to the nearest window. I could see the well-tended driveway, the manicured lawns and the heavily treed wooded area through which I had driven minutes before. There was no sign of any other habitation.

I turned back to look at Sally, who was still standing in the doorway.

"Do you like it?" she said.

I was wondering where she was staying, because there was no sign of her presence in this room. I knew, from having spent a great deal of time in her apartment that she tended to fill up her bedroom with her belongings.

"It's great" I said.

"But what?" she asked, coming over to me and giving me a gentle kiss.

"You look disappointed"

"Well, where's your room?" I asked. I tried without success to keep my tone light.

"I'm right across the hall, silly" she said. "we can't live in the same room; not with Mrs. Jansen here. She's known me all my life and I love her, but we have to keep up appearances. Besides I had to promise Daddy that I'd never let a boy sleep in my room!"

"Oh" was all I said.

"Come on" she said, pulling me by the hand.

"I'll show you where you'll be spending most of your nights"

I was able to laugh along with her as she led me across the hall into her room.

"What are you going to tell Daddy?" I said.

"Don't worry about that. You'll understand soon enough" was her cryptic response.

There was no mistaking the two rooms; they couldn't have been further apart in appearance, even though her room was laid out as the mirror image of my.

Where my room had hardwood and a rug, the floor of her room was covered by an expanse of deep plush carpet, creamy-white on color. Our beds occupied the same space, but hers was something out of a fairy-tale. It was an enormous four-poster canopy bed, with heavy silk the same color as the carpet hanging in flounces from the corner posts and forming a cream-white tented roof over the bed. The heavy silk was lined with gold-colored lace along its edges, which hung in scalloped curves from what I assumed were railings hidden beneath the silk, running around the exterior of the bed from the tops of the posts.

The bed itself was covered by a snow-white satin bedspread, and pillows were heaped at the head. Two stuffed teddy-bears leaned against the pillows. They looked somewhat the worse for wear, but were obviously much-loved reminders of her childhood.

The rest of the room was just as lavishly furnished. Where my room featured two antique dressers, she had one long low dresser and two taller ones, all in a deep, polished mahogany. Two armchairs, upholstered in the omni-present cream silk stood facing each other across a low, circular glass-topped table on which a vase of flowers rested. The windows were curtained with delicate sheers and heavy drapes in a light gold which matched the lace on the bed canopy. Broad sashes in the same heavy silk held the drapes back from the windows. Sunlight filters by the sheers gave a warm feeling to the room. I could make out through that diaphanous material, long, sloping lawns ending in a formal garden.

Mirrored closet doors lined the wall to the right of the doorway and a private bathroom opened off the room much as mine did.

"Isn't this gorgeous?" she asked. I nodded mutely.

"I asked Daddy if I could have a room like this, and he had it done for me when I was twelve. It's absolutely perfect!"

"Now, come on and I'll show you the rest of the house and then I'll take you outside. That's where you'll be working!"

She showed me room after room, and I knew that I was seeing only part of the house. There was a huge formal living room, with several couches and a gigantic fireplace. The grand piano which stood at one end of the room looked tiny in that space. We poked our head in her father's study; a very masculinely-furnished room in dark woods and rich leather. An impressive computer setup was the only concession to the late twentieth century in that room.

The kitchen was Mrs. Jansen's domain, although I learned that Mrs. Jansen served as cook only in the absence of the family. The family had a full-time cook who traveled with them whenever they went away for an extended period.

I was getting overwhelmed by the number and the sumptuousness of the rooms and it was with a sigh of relief that I followed Sally out into the garden at the back of the house. As we set foot out of the kitchen, we walked across a large stone patio and down a short flight of stairs to the lawn. To my left I saw a white trellis fence, through which an open gate revealed what looked like an Olympic size swimming pool, surrounded by the usual collection of loungers and chairs. Several tables stood shaded against the noon-sun by colorful umbrellas. Large potted plants added varied green to the blue of the water and the grays and whites of the concrete decking and the furniture.

The pool looked inviting, but Sally tore me away from it, saying that I had to learn where everything was.

It didn't take long before I realized that no one man, especially someone with no experience, could possibly look after the outside of the house and I expressed my doubts while Sally was showing me through the equipment building. There were two new John Deere lawn tractors, and a variety of add-on attachments. There were gas-powered weedeaters, ladders, a wide variety of garden implements, rolled up hoses, and a bewildering selection of fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides, and other chemicals. The controls for the sprinkling system would not have looked out of place in a chemical refinery!

"There's no way I can handle all this, even if there are two of us. I wouldn't know what I was doing" I said.

"Don't worry, honey" she replied.

"I only told you that you would be doing the outside work because I didn't want you to feel that you were going to be free- loading. I know how proud you are of working your way through school. You will have to do some of the work, but we have two full-time men to do most of it. They're not here today, because I wanted to tell you after you saw how big a job it was. I didn't think you'd understand until you actually saw the property"

I was relieved to hear this news, although slightly perturbed that she had misled me.

After a further tour of the premises, during which I became even more relieved that I was not going to be solely responsible for their upkeep, we returned to the kitchen, where Mrs. Jansen fed us a late lunch.

The rest of the day passed quietly, and we had an informal dinner, before retiring to be. I was disappointed when Sally kissed me goodnight outside of our doors. Her body language made it plain that I was not invited in.

I tossed and turned for a long time before finally falling asleep.

It was just after 3 am, according to the luminescent clock face on the nightstand when I awoke to the sensation of someone sliding into bed with me. I could tell immediately that it was Sally, her scent alerted me even before she whispered to me.

I was sleeping in the nude; a habit which Sally had encouraged in me. She was wearing something very silky and I enjoyed the sensations I felt as she snuggled up to me. I got an immediate erection and pressed hard against her.

"Mikey likes it" she said, with a low laugh.

"You're right" I replied. "Mikey really likes it"

She pulled me close and kissed me hard on the lips.

"Let's see how much Mikey likes it" she said, letting go and sitting up in bed.

She pulled her babydoll nightie over her head and handed it to me. I could barely make out what she was doing in the darkness.

"Put this on for me, sweetie" she said, her voice light.

I felt an unaccustomed fear in my stomach, but I wasn't about to argue with her. I was so horny, so addicted to her that I would have done anything she asked.

It took me a few seconds to get the silky garment the right way around and then I lowered it over my head. I could smell her scent as the deliciously cool fabric covered my face. Sally helped me pull the nightie down, with its spaghetti straps lying over my bare shoulders and the lace hem just below my crotch. My erection looked very much out of place, straining upwards against the feminine material.

Any doubt I had about what I was doing was swept away when Sally hugged me close and plied me with kisses. She lowered one hand to my groin and began stroking my penis through the silk. I have never been so aroused. I pushed her down and climbed on top of her. She was already wet, and ready for me. I plunged inside her and began moving up and down in that age-old motion.

My orgasm was everything I could have wanted, and I collapsed, shuddering, on top of her. She held me close, stroking my back through the silk of my nightie, until I was still. Then I rolled off of her and we lay in each other's arms. I remember her whispering her love to me as I fell asleep.

I awoke to the light streaming in through the open windows. I had neglected to close the drapes the previous evening, but there were no streetlights or other sources of illumination outside this remote house to have kept me awake, and it had been a cloudy night, even though there was no sign of rain.

I lay in bed, feeling contented, even though Sally was no longer there. She must have left before I awoke.

Perhaps I had heard something from the hallway, perhaps that had been what awoke me. In any event, I had just woken when the door opened and Sally bounced in.

She was glowing with happiness, and she looked fit and energetic in a trim, dark blue running outfit. Her bare legs were well muscled, yet very shapely, and her shoulder length hair was tied back in a ponytail. Circles under her armpits and beneath her breasts showed that she had been exercising, as did the towel flung casually across her shoulders.

"It's time to get up, sleepyhead. I've brought us some breakfast" she said as she came over to the bed to kiss me good morning.

I struggled to sit up as she pulled back the covers. I noticed Mrs. Jansen looking into the room, carrying what I assumed was a breakfast tray and it was only then that I realized that I was still wearing the nightie from last night.

I tried to pull the covers back down, and to lower myself out of sight, but Sally's grip was too strong. I was fully revealed from the waist up!

Mrs. Jansen appeared to take no notice even though she was looking directly at us. She placed the tray on a table and asked whether that would be all.

Sally thanked her and said that we'd call if we needed anything else. Mrs. Jansen left, leaving me red-faced with embarrassment.

Sally was completely unfazed.

"Don't be a wuss" she said. "Mrs. Jansen's seen almost anything you could imagine.. Seeing you in that pretty little nightie won't bother her at all!"

I started to take it off, but Sally sat down beside me and began kissing me, while again stroking me through the silk. Her proximity caused an immediate and noticeable reaction.

"See.. Mikey really does like it!"

I tried to protest that my reaction had nothing to do with how I was dressed: that it was her body that elicited my response, but she shushed me firmly. There was nothing for it but to carry on as if there was nothing strange going on. I even kept the nightie on when I went to the bathroom to pee and clean my teeth before eating.

"Make sure to sit down when you pee!" I heard her call out. I couldn't tell if she was joking, but I wasn't about to comply with that request.

We sat with our knees touching as we ate the breakfast which Mrs. Jansen had provided. I was horny all the way through and was delighted when Sally climbed into bed and motioned for me to join her. Our sex was urgent but brief. She was as ready for me as she had been last night

I went to shower, relieved to take off the nightgown. I took a long time, as I usually did, The water pressure was surprisingly strong and there seemed to be an infinite supply of hot water.

Sally was waiting for me as I strode back into my room, stark naked.

She had her hands behind her back as she stood near the door, clad in a pink housecoat, with a towel wrapped turban-style around her hair. She had evidently been showering as well.

"Honey, would you do me a favor?"

"Of course" I answered, more quickly than I should have in hindsight.

'Wear these for me, will you? I was so turned on last night, that I just know that the thought of you wearing these all day will make me so horny for you tonight"

I looked at what she held in her outstretched hand, but I think I knew what it was before my eyes even registered.

She was holding out a pair of panties. Not a pair of plain cotton panties, such as she sometimes wore, but a pair of bright red, silk panties with scalloped lace trim at the waist and around the leg openings.

She approached me, her tone imploring me to agree.

"Come on, humor me, darling. You won't regret it. And nobody will know!"

I should have refused, but I couldn't deny Sally anything. I took them and quickly pulled them up my legs. My penis made an unsightly bulge, and I was alarmed to see that it began to grow as I adjusted the silken panties about my waist.

She stood close and kissed me while her hand stroked the front of my panties. My immediate erection threatened to poke a whole in them. She knelt in front of me and pulled the waist down, exposing my rock-hard penis. She took me into her mouth and sucked hungrily while she stroked my ass with one hand and my balls with the other. This orgasm was weaker than my last two, but nevertheless I felt my knees weaken as I came.

She licked me off, and then daintily pushed my now flaccid penis back between my legs before adjusting my panties.

"Now we've made you look better" she said, before turning to leave.

"See you downstairs, sweetie" she said over her shoulder.

I finished dressing, choosing a pair of blue jeans and a casual shirt. I brushed my hair and put on a pair of running shoes and then went downstairs.

That morning was spent with Curt and Joe, the two brothers who were responsible for most of the outdoor work. They were almost like twins, both well over six feet in height and strongly built. The day was looking to be warm, and they wore cut-offs and tee- shirts, which revealed heavily muscled legs and arms.

They seemed friendly enough, but they also seemed to go out of their way to show how much strength was required to perform some of their work. It was as if they were showing that no academic nerd like me could or should compete.

I found the experience somewhat intimidating and was relieved to hear Sally tell me not to pay any attention to them.

'They're nice guys, and their bodies are unbelievable. But I don't think there's anything between their ears, honey. Not like you at all! Don't let their macho bullshit get you down. I don't love you for that side of you"

The unspoken thought occurred to me that it was just as well, since I was wearing some distinctly non-macho panties. My cheeks flushed as I imagined what Curt or Joe would say if they found out.

I was permitted to ride one of the lawn tractors, since the back lawn needed cutting. It took me more than an hour before I was finished, and I had to empty the large grass clippings basket several times. I found it awkward to remove the first time, and it was while I was struggling with it, sweat from the hot sun beading on my forehead and making my shirt stick to my back, that Curt came over and helped.

"Let me" was all he said, as he undid the clips which secured the basket and effortlessly lifted the fully loaded container off of the tractor. I found, when I did it the next time, that it must have weighed seventy-five pounds, but he handled it as if it were empty. More intimidation!

I realized that jeans and shirt were inappropriate for work outdoors. Not only was it too hot, but I was also getting my clothes dirty. But I had not brought any work clothes with me, which I now realized had been a stupid mistake.

Sally saw how hot I was when I came in after finishing the back lawn. She asked me how I was making out and I confessed that I needed to get some more appropriate clothing.

'I need shorts, or cut-offs or something. I'm overheating in these jeans"

She looked me up and down and then told me to wait there, because she had thought of something.

She left me at the kitchen table where we had had lunch the previous day. It was only a few minutes before she returned, barely enough for me to finish the glass of water I had poured while she was gone. She had a pair of cut-off jeans and a tee- shirt in her hands.

"Here, Mike. Try these, I think they'll fit"

I took them and looked them over. They seemed about the right size. I wasn't happy with the color of the tee-shirt, which was a faded-out pink, but I thanked her and went to go upstairs to get changed. She stopped me, telling me not to be silly, and to get changed right there.

I looked around and saw that we were alone. So I placed the clothes on the table and pulled of my jeans and shirt as quickly as I could, worried that someone coming in would see my panties. I had placed my jeans on the chair where I had been sitting and was stepping into the cut-offs when Mrs. Jansen walked briskly into the kitchen.

Not again! I thought to myself. Sure enough, she walked over to us, looking at us all the time. I pulled the cut-offs up as fast as possible, but in my haste I over-balanced and nearly fell to the floor. She had to have seen my underwear; the lace trim made it impossible to confuse them with anything male.

Once again she displayed no reaction at all, but merely inquired whether we would be in for dinner. Sally assured her that we would be dining at home tonight, and she nodded and left.

I finished dressing and Sally gave me a quick peck on the lips, telling me that I looked great. She even patted my butt as I turned away to go back out where more lawn-mowing awaited me.

I was tired and sore by the time I finished, and noted with envy that neither Curt nor Joe seemed at all put out by their much heavier workload. At one point I thought I saw them looking at me and laughing, but when I looked again, they were deep in their work.

I climbed the stairs, heading for my room to shower and change. Sally intercepted me and told me that we should shower together, and that we would use her bathroom.

Even though I had had three orgasms in the previous sixteen hours or so, my body still responded to her. She wouldn't let me in her room right away.

"You're too dirty, and sweaty to come in here" she said.

She told me to strip in my room, adding that I should take off my panties as well, since they were probably 'yucky' as well after the long day.

I did so with relief, which lasted only until I saw the label on the cut-offs. The jeans from which they had been made were labeled Jordache, and I knew that Jordache made only girls jeans. No wonder Curt and Joe had been laughing. I had been wearing a pink tee-shirt and girl's jeans. Thank god they didn't know about the panties!

Just then, Sally poked her head into the room and held out a housecoat, which she told me to put on before crossing the hall to her room. The housecoat fit well, but the color was a pale yellow, and it had small ruffles of lace around the collar and the cuffs of the sleeves. It was definitely not a man's garment.

Once inside her room, she led me into the bathroom and we climbed into the shower. Her naked body always took my breath away. I took hold of the soap and gently washed her body, kissing and nibbling as I did so. She in turn washed me, and seemed to especially enjoy washing my penis, squeezing it gently in her hand as she smiled at me, water running down our faces and over our eyes.

We took turns drying each other with the beach-size fluffy towels. I had hoped that we would have sex before going downstairs for dinner, but she steered me away, with the promise of 'later'.

As I was leaving she handed me another pair of panties; these in ivory silk with white lace. I took them obediently and headed back to my room.

Dinner was excellent, although I was finding it difficult to concentrate. The combination of her promise and the feel of the fresh panties combined to keep me excited all meal.

I met Mr. Jansen for the first time that evening. He acted as butler, bringing us each plate as we made our way through the meal. Sally's manner towards him was friendly but both he and she acted as if they recognized that there was a true 'Upstairs- Downstairs' difference, or barrier, between them. She seemed more distant to him than she had been to his wife.

The meal drew to a close and we went to the 'media room' to watch a movie. I would have preferred to head straight to bed, but Sally said that she felt like watching a comedy. She fussed over what seemed like an enormous selection of DVD discs before firing up the gigantic screen. I had never been in a real home theater before and was amazed at the quality and size of the picture as well as the concert hall feel of the sound.

She had selected Victor/Victoria, an old gender-bending romantic comedy with Julie Andrews and Robert Garner.

I felt a trifle uncomfortable since I thought that this was too close to what was going on here. In the movie Julie Andrews is a woman who plays a man dressing as a woman. I was a man wearing at least some woman's clothing, and I felt awkward. Was Sally trying to prove a point?

I was thankful when the movie ended, although Sally had seemed impervious to my discomfort. We walked upstairs, hand in hand and she allowed me to accompany her into her bedroom.

I helped her undress, as I had so many times in the past, and she in turn helped me. She turned away before I was completely naked and she climbed into bed. I finished undressing, taking off my panties as the last item, and then I climbed in after her.

She had satin sheets and they felt smooth and silky against my bare skin. I was looking forward to making love on these sheets, but she rolled away when I moved towards her.

"What's wrong" I asked, concern mingling with frustration in my voice.

She said nothing. I stroked her back, hoping for a response but she remained silent and unresponsive.

I looked around, as if perhaps I could find a clue somewhere in her room. My eyes lighted upon a gorgeous pale blue nightgown, in gleaming satin, with froths of pale cream lace at the bodice and hem.

I lay there for a moment as I thought back to last night. I made up my mind. She had been so excited by my wearing feminine articles of clothing that perhaps she would respond to my wearing that confection of satin and lace. It should at least be good for a smile.

I climbed back out of bed, but she didn't even look at me. I picked up the nightgown, wondering at it's lightness and the feel of its fabric. I pulled it over my head, taking care with the thin straps which rested over my shoulders. It was almost the same length as the one she had me wear last night, but it felt even more delicious against my skin. My already erect penis rose even higher as I stepped back towards the bed.

She rolled over to look at me as I climbed back in. Her eyes widened and she spread her arms to take me into her embrace.

"Oh, Darling. Thank you.. thank you" she said as she smothered me in kisses.

Our sex started fast and furious but then she pushed me back and asked me to slow down. She wanted us to take our time, to make love with tenderness and feeling.

"Not like some macho yob" she said.

"I want you to love me tenderly. Imagine you're a girl.. make love slowly, sensually"

I was frantic with desire, and acting like a girl was the furthest thing from my mind. Yet I knew I had to seem to comply, to keep her happy and anything that would prolong sex with Sally was okay with me.

She slowed me down, at one point easing my cock out of her and whispering to me that I should learn more about foreplay.

"When women make love to each other" she said, her lips close to my ear "they use their lips, their tongues and their fingers. Let me show you how"

She proceeded to take my hand in hers and guided me over her labia and her clitoris. She showed me how to use my fingers to stimulate her and then she urged me to go down and worship her with my mouth.

By now the sheets and bedding were thrown back and I clambered over her to place my face between her thighs.

I buried my face in her warm, moist and fragrant pubic hair, my lips searching out her clitoris. At the same time I felt her lips close around my penis and we were soon fully engaged in soixante-neuf!

Her sweat-slick body was heaving rhythmically beneath me and I was nearing orgasm when I felt her hand roam towards my arse. Suddenly, just as we were each reaching climax, she probed my rectum with her fingers. I came spasmodically, almost pulling away from her mound in reaction to the unexpected invasion of my body. I had never felt anything like it, and I couldn't have said whether I liked it or not. It was too intense and too wrapped up with my orgasm.

We lay motionless for a while and then she crawled around so that we lay side-by-side. She smiled at me, thanking me for the best sex yet.

I sat up and thought about removing my nightgown, but I suspected that she would disapprove. Satiated with sex, I felt an overpowering desire to please her, so I snuggled up to her and we fell asleep in an untidy array on the disordered bed.

It was again daylight when I woke. Mrs. Jansen was knocking on the door, which she opened and entered, carrying the usual breakfast tray. Sally stirred beside me and asked Mrs. Jansen to put the tray on the table and we'd bring it down when we were finished.

This was the third time Mrs. Jansen had seen me wearing feminine clothing and as always she gave no sign of any reaction. I guess I was becoming inured to the experience, since I made no move to cover myself.

I did mention to Sally that Mrs. Jansen seemed completely undisturbed by seeing us in bed together.

'She's been with us longer than I've been alive. She knows everything about me, and so long as I keep up some appearances, I can get away with anything! That's why you have to have your own room, but so long as you want to, you can spend every night in here with me"

"Baby, you know I want to!"

We laughed together and then settled down to breakfast. Sally complimented me on how well the nightgown fit and how good it looked on me. She reached over several times to stroke me through the material and I have to admit that it felt good.

She paused, with a piece of toast halfway to her mouth.

"There is one thing that I'd really like you to do before getting dressed. It would make me feel so much happier next time we make love"

"What's that, honey?"

"When we went down on each other, I found the hair on your legs really bothered me. I just don't like the bristly feel. Would you be a dear and shave all over for me."

She must have seen the look of doubt on my face.

"Don't worry about what anyone else thinks. You know I love you. And everyone knows that we're lovers so even Curt and Joe can't say that you're gay or anything. Besides, we'll tell them it's because you're a swimmer. Lot's of boys on my old swim team shaved all over; it cuts down on water resistance"

The sinking feeling in my stomach warned me that this was getting too weird, but I couldn't say no to her. So I showered alone, taking almost half an hour to shave myself all over, leaving only my scalp and my pubic hair. I even shaved my armpits, although she had not directly asked me to do so. I hoped that she'd find my decision to be something she should reward.

I had gone back to my room to shower, and afterwards I walked into my bedroom. There on the bed were some new panties and a silk camisole, both in the same pale blue as my nightgown.

I mentally shrugged and put them on. I was used to wearing panties now and automatically pushed my penis back between my legs before putting on the Jordache cut-offs from the previous day. I saw that the pink tee-shirt had gone, replaced by what I thought at first was a clean white shirt. But then I found that the buttons did up backwards, and there was a delicate pattern embroidered on the front of the collar. I guess it was one of Sally's blouses. It fit well except that it was loose around the chest.

I looked in the drawers where I had placed my underwear and socks, and was relieved to see my shorts all in place. My socks were, however, missing. I searched around, but could only find a pair of white socks, with little lace ribbons around the top. I had little choice so I put them on, thankful that today was a Saturday, so I wouldn't be working outside, and Curt and Joe wouldn't see me.

I ventured downstairs, feeling a little silly in this get-up. Mr. Jansen was replacing a light bulb in the hallway leading to the media room where I had decided to check out the sports on television. He nodded acknowledgment of my presence but otherwise had no reaction. I was beginning to wonder whether there was anything which might strike them as strange. Evidently the sight of Sally's boyfriend starting to dress like a girl wasn't it!

I had settled into a comfortable chair, with a soda I had taken from the fridge which the family kept in the media room when Sally walked in. She stopped and looked me over, and then let out a long wolf-whistle.

I blushed and bridled.

"Is this what you want?" I said, standing and doing a pirouette. "Are you trying to make me look like a girl?"

"Honey, you look wonderful! You know that your cute butt was one of the things that most attracted me to you? You look just sensational!"

Her evident pleasure in my appearance overrode my momentary anger, as I think she knew would happen.

We embraced and she ran her hands over my buttocks and then over my back. I have to admit that I was really starting to like the feel of contact through silk. It seemed that I was having erections almost all the time, and this moment was no exception. It actually felt sore as it strained to pop free from its position between my legs, and I was glad that I had silk panties on to prevent it from chafing.Sally made me move over to a loveseat and she sat down beside me. We watched television for a while, but then Sally protested that this was too boring. Besides, she pointed out, it's a warm sunny day, ideal for lounging around the pool.

"Let's get changed and go to the pool"

I guess I should have expected what happened next. Sally wouldn't let me wear my own swimming trunks. She said that they covered too much of my body. She wanted me to tan over a much greater area, so she made me wear a bikini bottom from one of her swim-suits. She teasingly suggested that I wear the top as well, but I was able to resist.

I objected to the bikini bottom on the basis that my genitals would protrude, and that there was no way that they could be hidden. That was when she sprung her next trap. She produced what she told me was a gaff; something which female impersonators wore to conceal their gender. My protests were overridden and all too soon I had put it on. It was initially very painful, but even I had to admit that it made an incredible difference to the way the bikini fit.

"You look great" Sally enthused. "We all have to suffer a bit to look so good"

She made me sit down while she brushed and combed my hair. I had always liked to let my hair grow long, and had not even had it trimmed in a couple of months. Sally had always told me how much she liked long hair on men, and I had got into the habit of wearing it in a ponytail. I usually used a rubber band to hold it in place.

Sally spent several minutes working on my hair and then I felt her pull it back into a ponytail and fasten it with something. It felt like there was something bigger in my hair than a rubber band, so I reached up to feel it, while looking at my reflection sideways in the mirror.

She had placed a soft pink velvet scrunchie in my dark brown hair, which she had pulled tightly back, except for the hair at the very front of my head. That had been brushed down, with a part in the middle, so that it hung in wings on either side of my face.

I was shocked at how feminine I appeared. All I lacked were breasts, and that thought confirmed my rejection of Sally's suggestion of wearing the bikini top!

I began to walk down the hall to the stairs, but Sally wasn't through with me yet. She almost dragged me into her room and opened her closets. She had rack after rack of shoes, and she quickly selected a pair of open-toed sandals which she insisted I try on.

"They're maybe a size too big for me, but I think they'll be perfect for you. It's such a shame not to find a use for something I've spent money on"

Sure enough, they fit. They had only a two inch heel so I had no trouble adjusting my stride, although I felt as if my butt were sticking out even more prominently than usual. She confirmed my fears by patting me on the bum, and laughing about how good I looked.

I tried to put a good face on it all, even though I was cringing inside. Sally seemed to see nothing unusual at all, and I was so much under her spell that I didn't have the heart to disappoint her. After all, I consoled myself, no-one who saw us making love would question my manhood. Few men ever got to bed such a magnificent woman, and it was me who drove her crazy, not some macho hunk!

Sally handed me a small, wicker bag containing suntan lotion, sunglasses, and a couple of paperback novels and she led the way out to the pool, carrying two beach towels.

The concrete deck was covered with some kind of decorative mosaic, featuring either dolphins or killer whales, I couldn't decide which. Sally indicated two adjacent loungers. I was amazed to see a telephone on the nearby table, until Sally explained that it was really just an intercom so that we could ask for drinks or snacks to be brought out. I was gaining an appreciation of what it meant to be rich, and thought that I could get used to this.

Sally stretched out, tummy down. She asked me to apply lotion to her back and legs, and I was happy to oblige. Her skin was soft and warm beneath my fingers and she murmured appreciatively as I worked the thick liquid into her pores. I took special care in caressing her long, smooth legs, and I admired the trim musculature of her powerful thighs. I undid her bikini top, and let the straps fall to her side while I admired the swell of her breasts, compressed as they were by her weight.

I then lay down while she returned the favor. It felt great to be lying by the pool with the woman I loved while she rubbed my back and my legs. I enjoyed the feeling of her stroking my shaven legs. I felt my cock stir in its constraint as she rubbed lotion into the skin between my thighs, working her way with strong, assured hands towards my ass.

I had to agree with her when she leaned close and whispered in my ear that there were advantages to having smooth skin and wearing a bikini.

After completing her ministrations, Sally pulled out the two books and offered me my choice. I saw that they were both romance novels, with bright covers depicting attractive young women with sad expressions and, in the background, a handsome man. I shook my head, but Sally told me not to be so macho.

"Read one before you criticize" she said.

"Did you know that most of them are written by men. You've always said you might want to be a writer some day. You might learn a lot. Besides, women read more than men, so any successful writer should study what women read"

I reluctantly chose one of the books at random and we each lay down to read, lying on our stomachs.

It was about an hour later, when I had put the book to one side and was just lying there, soaking up the sun, when Sally announced that she had to go in to use the little girl's room. I grunted my acknowledgment and closed my eyes.

A few minutes later, I felt a shadow fall across my body and I rolled over just as I heard a male voice.

"Excuse me, miss" I heard.

"Do you mind if we have a quick swim? Miss Sally usually says it's OK"

I squinted up at the large silhouette that was all I could make out, but as I did so I realized in horror that it was Curt standing there. And he had addressed me as Miss.

I suppose it was a natural mistake, since seeing me face down all of the clues would have shouted 'girl' rather than boy. My long hair was in a pony-tail secured by a girl's scrunchie and the wings left free hung down beside my face in an undeniably feminine fashion. My bikini bottom was from a girl's swim suit, and my shaven, oiled legs hardly looked male at all.

I think Curt noticed his mistake just as I recognized him. I still could make out no real detail of his expression, but he seemed to straighten up and step back as he apologized, confusion evident in his voice.

"I'm sorry, Mike. I didn't recognize you, looking like that"

I could feel the heat in my cheeks as I sat up, instinctively reaching for the book which had been lying by my side. It fell off as I turned and Curt bent down to pick it up. I saw him glance at the title before he handed it back to me. His whole body language expressed his surprise and nervousness. Yet at the same time, and only increasing my shame, I was aware of a distinct, and large, bulge in the front of his shorts. Whatever he had seen, or thought that he had seen, had obviously interested him.

"Hi Curt!" I heard Sally call as she strode back into the pool area. She walked briskly by him and leaned over to kiss me quickly on the cheek. She stood, her left hand resting possessively on my bare shoulder as she told Curt that he and his brother could certainly go for a swim in the pool.

"Just don't splash us girls!" she said.

I turned away, unable to even look at Curt or to protest out loud in his presence. I felt humiliated. How could she do this to me?

She bent over again and whispered in my ear.

"Honey, I'm just teasing you. The boys know how crazy I am about you. They won't mind, and besides, you do look awfully cute"

I muttered something under my breath and picked up my towel as I stood. I hurried inside, fighting back tears.

Sally followed me, calling out my name, but I did my best to ignore her. I walked past a startled Mrs. Jansen and climbed the stairs to my room. No sooner had I closed the door and thrown myself down on the bed than Sally came in and sat down beside me.

She stroked my back while murmuring assuring words, about how she loved me and thought that I was a sexy man.

I turned my tear-streaked face towards her and she leaned over and kissed the salt from my face. We hugged as I asked her what was going on. Why was she making me look this way?

"Honey, I love you! I just think that we should be able to express our feelings without worrying about what other people think. I find hairy guys a real turn-off. I think that men who are able to be in touch with the feminine side of their personality make much better lovers. I want you to learn to be a better lover, because I want to be with you for a long, long time!"

I replied, drying my eyes with the back of one hand:

"So you're not just playing some trick on me?"

"Of course not, honey. I told you: I love you. And, besides, no-one's ever going to find out that you spent some time this summer learning to accept the feminine side of yourself. We'll be lovers all summer and when we go back to school, all those macho guys will be jealous of you. Just wait and see"

"But it's not right. Curt even thought I looked like a girl! He's going to think I'm gay, and so will Joe"

"Sweetheart, don't worry about what they think. I've known them forever, and I'll have a talk with them. Besides, whose opinion is more important to you: mine or theirs?"

There was only one answer I could give to that.

She lay down beside me and we snuggled. My gaff kept my penis from reacting, but I didn't feel especially sexy anyway. I needed comforting more than anything else, and Sally provided that for me.

She rolled off the bed and told me to come along as she led me back into her bedroom. She told me that while it was too nice a day not to keep our swim-suits on, perhaps we should cover up a little before having lunch out by the pool. She passed me the camisole I had worn that morning and I pulled it on, with only an inner sigh. I went to put on the blouse, but she stopped me.

"Here, wear this. I think it's much cuter" She was testing me. She had handed me a floral print vest, with lace trim and small pearl buttons. It was clearly made to be worn open, and when I put it on, my silk camisole was plainly visible. There could be no pretending to anyone. She also took away the denim cut-offs which could have been taken for boy's wear on casual viewing. The pink wrap-skirt she gave me to wear over my bikini bottoms left almost nothing to the imagination. I was glad for the gaff, since I any bulge would have looked at of place. She made me wear pink socks as well.

Sally watched me closely as I dressed, and I did my best to act as if I were okay with this, even though my mind was in turmoil. I was in so deep, and I was still so physically attracted to her, that I could see no easy way out. What she was asking of me was unreasonable as hell, but the way she described it, and her attitude as she did so, made it seem absolutely normal.

I stood before her, undergoing her inspection. She grimaced and pulled me over to a padded chair in front of a vanity. Before I could react, she was beginning to apply makeup to my face.

'Shush!" she said, gripping the back of my neck with one hand as I tried to pull away.

I sat rigid, eyes closed, not daring to look in the mirror as she worked on my face. I felt some form of cream being applied over my entire face and beneath my chin. Then came a series of feathery touches around my eyes. Pressure over my cheekbones told me that something was being placed on my cheeks. Then I felt what I knew had to be lipstick, accompanied as it was by her directions to part my lips for her. I was then told to bite down, with my lips only. I felt a kleenex between my lips and then I was told that I was ready.

I opened my eyes.

A young girl looked back at me, her eyes widening as I took in the image before me.

I had known that my current hair-style was somewhat feminine, what with the long, wispy tendrils of hair hanging in front of my ears, and framing my oval face, while most of my hair was pulled straight back into a pony-tail secured by a scrunchie. But now my own face added to the lie!

My eyes seemed huge, and my nose appeared to be much smaller than my self-image told me it should be. I had always felt that my nose, with its upturned button look, had been an attractive feature for me, but now it truly did look cute. My lips seemed to have almost doubled in thickness, a cupid's bow of a pink which matched the color of my scrunchie. My cheeks gave off a faint healthy glow, and my skin appeared smooth and flawless.

Sally leaned over my shoulder, placing her head on a level with mine. We looked at each other, our eyes locking in the mirror. She smiled.

"See what I mean, honey? Anyone who looks like you do has a strong feminine side. You look so cute I could eat you up!"

She kissed me on the cheek, and then, as I turned towards her, on the lips.

Sally had always been a good kisser, but we had never kissed like this. We stood, our lips breaking apart momentarily as we changed position. She was on fire, holding me tighter than she had ever done, and taking charge. Her tongue forced my lips apart and then she filled my mouth. We were gasping and moaning and ripples of heat swept through my body. Her hands were all over me, caressing and rubbing my buttocks one moment and the next pinching my nipples through the silk of my camisole.

We broke our embrace, but our eyes never left each other's as we hurriedly took off the clothing we had just put on. She stooped me from taking off my camisole, but otherwise we were naked as we tumbled onto her bed.

She insisted in being on top. My penis, somewhat sore from its confinement and the unusual amount of use it had experienced in the last couple of days, was soon rock hard once more. She lowered herself onto me, already wet and ready. She made me lie still as she rode up and down.

Then, when I could only barely restrain myself from moving with her, she rolled off me and lay down beside me, with her back against my side as she reached under the bed. I could not see what she had picked up, and before I could gain a better view, she had thrown herself around so that her groin was against my face. Her scent filled my head and I knew what I was to do. I buried my face in her fragrant pubic hair and began lapping at her clitoris. I felt her mouth close on my penis and I thought that we were going to repeat our last sexual experiment. I was wrong.

I was really getting into eating her out when I felt a pressure around my sphincter. I squealed in reaction. This was not a finger! It was something far bigger. I tried to move back, but she tightened her thighs around me and I was powerless: trapped by her thighs around my head and her mouth around my penis.

The pressure mounted and then I felt whatever it was enter me. It hurt and the pain mounted as she pressed what I guessed was a dildo deeper into me. I stopped working on her and I know that she merely held me in her mouth as we both focused on this new development. She moved slowly, for which I was grateful. I could sense my insides moving, relaxing as I accommodated this invasion. Finally it was all the way in and she stopped. The pain had begun to fade, to be replaced by a not-uncomfortable full feeling.

Then she began to suck me again, slowly, as she pulled the dildo back out, also very slowly. The pain returned, but with it was a faint feeling of pleasure.

I began to lick her again, tentatively, as she sucked me and moved the dildo back and forth. I found my hips moving, whether because of her fellatio or the dildo I could not say. The pain eased again and the pleasure increased.

She began to moan form between her lips, and I did as well, my mouth buried deep within her bush.

I felt her body arch away from mine, my rampant penis cooling in the air as her saliva evaporated after she let it out of her mouth. She was devoting all of her attention to fucking my ass with her dildo!

We were both breathing in gasps. Sweat was soaking my body, and slicking hers. Our passions suddenly exploded. I ejaculated in great, body-wracking spasms, even though I had little sperm left in me. She howled like an animal, far louder and less controlled than I had ever heard her before.

I felt spent as I collapsed on the bed. Her dildo was still inside me and I quivered as she pulled it out. She crawled around to kiss me on the lips and whisper to me.

"That was the best sex I've ever had, honey. And you're no longer a virgin, little girl"

I smiled at her, too exhausted and too sated by sex to argue.

We rested for a while and I believe I even nodded off for a few minutes. I was feeling hungry when we stirred from the bed and mentioned that maybe it was time for lunch. Sally agreed, but insisted that we get dressed as before. My camisole was clammy with drying sweat, so she made me select a replacement from one of her lingerie drawers. I chose one in champagne silk, with a pretty lace-trimmed bodice. She nodded her approval and complimented me on my choice.

We showered before dressing and as I was about to leave the bathroom, she sprayed me with perfume.

Putting on the gaff was easier this time and soon I was ready to have my makeup, which had been badly smudged during sex and removed in the shower, replaced. This time I watched as she told me what she was doing and why.

'You'll be doing your own makeup soon" she said.

I had a warm, sore feeling in my butt. I felt almost as if I were going to be passing a turd; it was as if I couldn't keep my sphincter tight. I was abruptly conscious of what had just happened and how I looked and smelled. Yet I also felt at peace with myself. Perhaps I was beginning to come into contact with my feminine self.

It was in that frame of mind that I meekly accepted the pair of shoes which Sally handed me. They were white, with a two inch heel and a small pink bow at the front. I felt my butt sticking out a little as I walked towards the door, with just a trace of sway in my hips.

That feeling of calm acceptance, and inner warmth remained with me as we walked downstairs, where we found Mrs. Jansen making up a plate of sandwiches. She smiled at us.

"You look very nice, Miss Michael" was how she greeted me.

'Miss Michael'!

Sally tightened her grip on my hand as Mrs. Jansen spoke, and I lowered my head, feeling a blush spread to my cheeks and an involuntary smile to my lips.

"Mrs. Jansen, I think that Michael would like to take the boys their lunch" Sally volunteered.

"I..I don't think so" I stammered, but to no avail as Mrs. Jansen handed me a fully loaded tray, smiling brightly.

"here you go, dear" she said, as she led the way to the French doors leading to the patio. She held them open as I walked through, my heart in my throat. If Curt and Joe had had any questions about my masculinity, this wasn't going to help!

I felt nervous, embarrassed, humiliated, ashamed and secretly thrilled as I minced carefully over the paving stones which made up the surface of the patio. I could not see where I was stepping and I was unaccustomed to working as a waitress, especially wearing heels, even these modest ones.

So it was with a mixture of relief and increased shame that I saw Joe coming to the open gate, reaching out to take the tray from me. I thought that he had not recognized me because his expression was so casual and accepting. But then, as he took the weight of the tray onto his strong arms, he turned his head towards the pool and called out to Curt.

"Michael's brought us lunch! You should come and thank her!"

I was rooted to the ground. He had recognized me and, what was much, much worse, he had referred to me as 'her'"

I wanted to flee, but I couldn't control my body. I remained motionless, save for a trembling which seemed to pass over my whole being. Curt came into view, his broad shoulders and well- muscled chest covered with beads of water, glittering in the sun. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead and his brown eyes seemed to see right through me as he approached, his white teeth gleaming in a broad smile. My eyes flickered of their own accord towards his groin. I remembered, with a shudder, my earlier impression that he had been turned on when he had seen me lying on the lounger. I tore my gaze away as soon as I realized where I was looking, but not before I could see something stirring beneath his wet, tight swimming trunks.

Curt came up to me, standing several inches taller than me even though he was bare-foot and I was wearing heels. He looked down at me as he took my right hand in both of his. He pressed my hand gently.

"Thank you, Michael" he said. For one awful moment I thought he might be about to kiss me, but if he had that intention, something changed his mind. He released my hand and he and his brother walked over to one of the pool-side tables where they sat down to start eating. They paid no more attention to me, which both relieved, and for some bizarre reason, irritated me.

I walked back to the kitchen where I saw that the two women had been standing by the open doors, watching my adventure.

Sally pecked me on the cheek.

"See, that wasn't bad, was it?"

I could only lower my head and nod. Tears were welling in my eyes, and Sally noticed them.

"Quit being such a baby, Michael" she said.

"I had hoped that you'd accept the inevitable and that we could be girlfriends all summer, but I can see that you need more training. So today, you can help Mrs. Jansen. She's going to move your new clothes into our bedroom. You won't be using that old room again, but of course that means that you won't need any of those old, boy clothes"

I looked at her, and then at Mrs. Jansen. Their expressions held no sign of uncertainty, and I lacked the resolve to put up any fight. The repeated assaults on my self-image had taken their toll; I was no longer certain who or what I was.

Mrs. Jansen gave me an apron to wear as we did the dishes. She rinsed the plates and I loaded the dishwasher, under her careful scrutiny. Then we went into one of the small rooms at the back of the house where several large plastic bags and a number of cardboard boxes awaited us. She loaded my arms with as much as I could carry and she took the rest. We walked upstairs to Sally's room, which I gathered was now my room as well.

We placed our burden on the bed and Mrs. Jansen directed me to start opening the packages while she pulled open two drawers in one of the dressers.

"These drawers will be for your lingerie, Miss Michael" she said.

The use of the feminine 'miss' still caused a ripple of anguish, but given the way that I had failed to make a stand so far, there was little I could do. I mentally bit my lip while smiling in apparent compliant acceptance.

The packages contained a profusion of silk, satin and lace. There were about a dozen panties, all in pastels, and all with lace trim. Seven of them, in different shades of peach, yellow, light blue, and so on, had the days of the week embroidered above the left leg opening. Mrs. Jansen showed me how to fold them neatly and then watched with approval as I placed them in the upper of my two lingerie drawers.

Then came the bras. Several were heavily padded, while the others were lighter constructions. This was too much for me.

"Why do I have to wear bras? I don't have breasts" I asked.

"My dear, that's why you need the padded bras to start with. You may find that the other bras become more appropriate as the summer goes along"

I chose not to think about the implications of that last remark. I was having enough difficulty coping with my life as it was now.

I continued my task, unpacking, folding and storing full slips, half-slips, camisoles, teddies, garter-belts, and nylons in a wide range of colors. There were even several nightgowns and negligees. I noticed that the labels were all in French. Sally had spared no expense: there must have been thousands of dollars of lingerie in my two drawers, which were fully packed by the time we were finished.

Mrs. Jansen walked to the closets which filled one wall.

"Miss Sally had me remove some of her clothes, ones that she rarely wears, so that you'd have space for your new clothes" she said, opening a mirrored door to reveal an array of expensive- looking garments neatly but densely hung on hangars.

She pulled some of them out towards us, leaving them on their hangars. I saw blouses, skirts in various lengths and styles, maybe a dozen dresses ranging form a plain sundress to two long formal gowns, but I saw no pants, even though Sally herself often wore jeans or slacks.

I commented on that absence and was informed that as a young lady learning to accept her femininity, it was inappropriate for me to wear pants.

"Maybe later, when you are at home in skirts, Miss Michael" was the only consolation she offered.

I was relieved when she closed the closet door, thinking that I would now be left alone to gather my thoughts. But my hopes were dashed as she led me into the bathroom, after first directing me to bring along one of the padded chairs from the bedroom.

She sat me down in front of the bathroom vanity.

"Now, young lady, it's time you learned to use makeup properly"

What could I do? Each step of the way had perhaps allowed me a tiny chance to stop; to protest and to refuse to go any further. What had started in an accommodation of Sally's sexual pranks had bit by bit reduced me to this. I had already meekly served food and drinks to two young men with whom I was supposed to work. They had seen me in a camisole and skirt, with make-up and women's shoes. I was now known in the house as Miss Michael and had just finished putting away my own lingerie. Sure, I knew that I was still Sally's boyfriend: our sexual activity had been at an unprecedented level. But everyone else must think I was a transvestite or worse. I was in so deep that backing out now would undo none of the damage in the eyes of the others.

Sally had pointed out that this was just for the summer and that by fall we would return to school where no-one would have any knowledge of how I ad spent my summer. All they would know is that I had spent all summer with a wonderful, gorgeous woman of the kind most guys could only have in their fantasies.

There was no point, or so it seemed, to making a fuss now, and risking losing Sally. Besides, I had given up my other summer job opportunities. If I pissed her off now, she might make me leave and I'd have nowhere to stay, and no job lined up. I needed all the money I could make if I wanted to return to school.

So I went that next step along the path which Sally had mapped out for me.

We spent the next two hours with Mrs. Jansen painstakingly instructing me how to use makeup. My first task was to shave with a new blade, taking great pains to do so without nicking my skin while removing as much trace of stubble as possible. Mrs. Jansen pronounced herself satisfied only after she ran her hand over my newly-shaven skin. I then had to rub a creamy lotion into the skin, which she said would moisturize it and help to make my pores seem smaller while softening my skin. I would have to use the lotion every day, she said. She showed me how to do my eyes dramatically, for romantic evenings, and how to use just a touch of eyeshadow for less elegant occasions. She had me practice applying lipstick and lipgloss, until I was able to make my lips look fuller and more alluring than I would have imagined. Powder and foundation could be used to minimize the apparent size of my nose and soften the contours of my chin. Painful minutes with tweezers left me with sculpted eyebrows which arched in thin lines over my eyes. I was astounded at how much larger my eyes appeared after she was finished.

I learned how to apply mascara without scratching my eye-balls or speckling mascara under my eyes, and how to apply color to my cheekbones to make them seem more prominent.

By the time we were through, my skin felt dry and tight, from the repeated removal of the makeup and its reapplication. Mrs. Jansen made me do one more complete 'run', telling me to imagine that I was going out on a date, and wanted to look as sexy as I possibly could.

I concentrated so hard on each step that I was unaware of how I appeared until I was finished. I looked into the mirror and felt something quiver deep inside me.

I was beautiful! The young man who had arrived at Sally's home just two days ago was nowhere to be seen. In his place was a young woman whose oval face oozed sensuality. Her full, generous mouth gave promise of delights to come, while her wide-open eyes seemed to dominate her face, combining the innocence of a young girl with the sexual come-hither appeal of a fully sophisticated woman.

I sat entranced, barely aware of Mrs. Jansen's hand on my shoulder and her approving smile in the mirror.

I did not see her leave. I merely sat looking at my reflection, my right hand rising of its own volition towards my face. It was as if I could only accept who I was becoming by seeing more evidence, from the reflected motion of my arm, that it was truly my reflection that had captivated me.

It may have been just seconds, or it may have been hours for all I could tell, before Sally walked softly into the room behind me.

She came up behind me and leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. I felt the warmth of her body and the softness of her lips as if I were still in a dream. Our eyes met in the glass of the mirror and her smile elicited a similar response from me.

"Michael, you're even prettier than I would have thought possible" she said.

I nodded my agreement and, finally able to tear my eyes away from my image, I stood and held her in my arms. Our kiss was long, and lingering, but with none of the ardor with which I normally kissed her. It just somehow seemed right to be soft and gentle, and it was even more of a turn-on for me than usual. My penis was straining against my gaff, but even that felt all right.

We broke and both turned to look into the mirror, concerned that our lipstick might be smudged. I saw her looking at me and we burst out laughing together. We held hands as we left the bathroom and went downstairs.

Mr. Jansen was cleaning a pair of shoes at the kitchen table as we walked in. He had been talking to his wife, who was busy preparing vegetables, presumably for our evening meal. He looked up as we walked in, and I thought that I caught a note of disapproval in his glance, before he quickly looked away.

That look brought me back to earth. I had been gaily walking into the kitchen, holding Sally's hand, as if we were two young girls in love with each other and with life. But I was in fact a boy, a boy who was dressed as a girl. A boy who had just finished doing his makeup as best as he could, trying to make himself look sexy and desirable. Desirable to men!

My smile vanished and I could feel my shoulders slump. Sally drew ahead of me, and it was my slowing that caused her to stop and turn to me. I felt tears well in the corners of my eyes, and I sniffed in an effort to avoid crying openly.

She embraced me, looking over my shoulder in the direction of Mr. Jansen. I could not see the expression on her face, but I suspect that she looked angry. I heard Mr. Jansen push back his chair, the legs making an unpleasant scraping sound on the tiled floor. He must have left because when Sally released me, with soothing words, he was nowhere to be seen.

Mrs. Jansen came over to us and told me not to worry about him.

"Harry's not a bad man, Miss Michael" she said.

"The real problem is not that he doesn't like you. It's that when he was younger he had a thing about boys in dresses. He thinks I never knew about that part of his life. I know that my generation seems really old and stuffy to yours, but in our time we were pretty wild. I think Harry is worried that he might really like you, and he doesn't want me to notice. So he's going to be all gruff and disapproving, at least until he gets used to you"

I was shocked. Mr. Jansen was gay? He was acting this way because he was afraid that he might get aroused by me and wanted to pretend to dislike me instead?

The image of Curt looking at me, and the movement I had seen in his groin, flashed before my eyes. Curt had clearly found me sexually desirable, and that was when I had had on only a trace of makeup and had been making no effort to move in a feminine manner. Now Mr. Jansen was going to react to me the same way!

Sally smiled at me.

"Honey, there's nothing to worry about. Mr. Jansen wouldn't try anything”.

“You'll be doing your own makeup soon" she said.

I had a warm, sore feeling in my butt. I felt almost as if I were going to be passing a turd; it was as if I couldn t keep my sphincter tight. I was abruptly conscious of what had just happened and how I looked and smelled. Yet I also felt at peace with myself. Perhaps I was begining to come into contact with my feminine self.

It was in that frame of mind that I meekly accepted the pair of shoes which Sally handed me. They were white, with a two inchfriends here in previous years. None of them as pretty as you, sweetheart"

"Other girlfriends? You.. you mean like me?" I stammered.

"Oh no! No. I mean real girls. I've always liked girls and boys.. and I think you are the ultimate.. with you I get the best of both worlds!"

My knees trembled and I felt sick to my stomach. I reached for a chair and stumbled into it. I thought wryly that my whole sense of self was going to collapse. The hammerblows seemed never- ending. My Sally was gay herself. I had never subscribed to the idea that people could be truly bi-sexual. Either you were, like me, normal or you were deviant in some way. Men who liked men, even or especially men who looked and acted like girls, or girls who liked girls were gay!

Now I was trapped in a house full of gays. My own girlfriend, with whom I had had such great sex, had, it now appeared, wanted me more as a girlfriend than as a boyfriend. I realized what should have been obvious from the first night I had spent here. She was far more turned on by me in lingerie than when I was a naked man.

I held my head in my hands, the tears now streaming down my face. I could see myself in my own mind. What I saw didn't help at all. I knew that I looked like a young, flat-chested, woman sitting at a kitchen table, crying her heart out. The very act of crying was reinforcing my surrender to femininity. I should have been screaming in anger, tearing off these clothes and washing off this makeup. I should have been storming out of the house, yelling insults and swearing revenge. Instead, I was acting just like she wanted me to: like a girl.

Despite my inner despair, the feel of her comforting arms did help me relax. She whispered sweet nonsense into my ear until my shoulders stopped shaking. Mrs. Jansen silently offered me some kleenex, and I equally silently took them and dried my eyes.

Sally let go of me and sat across the table. She rested her chin on her hands, her elbows on the smooth brown table. I noticed the grain in the wood, and the freckles on her forearms. Blue veins formed fine tracery beneath the pale skin. The early evening light had a warm, golden quality to it that added depth to the colors in the room. I noticed all of this as if from a distance. My intense emotions of a moment ago were gone. I was drained, exhausted and unable to muster any more resistance.

Sally looked at me for a while, while my gaze moved slowly from table surface to her face and back. Neither of us spoke, while Mrs. Jansen continued her meal preparation in the background. The sound of a knife cutting vegetables and the smell of fresh herbs gave an impression of normalcy utterly at odds with the drama which had reached a critical point in this room.

"I'm okay, now" I finally said, essaying a brave, small smile.

"Good, honey" she said.

"I know that I've put you through a lot in the last couple of days, but please believe me when I say I love you, Michael"

I nodded.

"And I love you, Sally"

"I wouldn't let anyone else do this to me" I added, with a forced chuckle.

She said that we should let Mrs. Jansen finish making dinner in peace and that we should get changed for dinner. Besides, my makeup needed fixing.

"Do you think that you can handle that yourself?" she asked.

I said that I could and on that note we returned to our bedroom. We were a more somber couple going upstairs than we had been going down, but another watershed had been reached in those few minutes. Any chance of me regaining my male self in the foreseeable future had vanished.

It took me several minutes to repair the damage I had caused to my makeup and when I came back into the bedroom, Sally was stripped to panties and bra. She was standing in front of our dressers, putting on a garter-belt.

I was struck, as I always was, by her physical beauty. I knew that with my makeup, I was a pretty girl, at least from the neck up. But my body, even though short and slender, was still a boy's body while she was all female, with small but pendulous breasts and a narrow waist flaring into wide hips in a classic hourglass figure. Her posture as she bent her head over and fastened her garter-belt in front of her before turning it around her waist to have the hooks in the back was a breath-taking example of the feminine format its best. I stopped in my tracks to admire her, until she, the garter-belt in place, looked up at me.

"Come on, Michael" she said, with a smile.

"You've got to get dressed as well. I thought we'd go formal since this is such an important night for you. Dressing up is so much fun. I've wanted to share this fun with you ever since I got to know you!"

Her open acknowledgment of her plans and her deliberate seduction of me should have infuriated me, but I had already come to grips with it. I was still feeling drained, although the sight of her near-naked body was restoring some of my sense of well- being.

I removed my shoes and socks, undid my skirt and removed my vest and the camisole. Now I was wearing only panties.

Sally was sitting on the bed, about to put on her stockings. She paused to watch me, and I knew that my next move was important to her. The expression of hopeful optimism tinged with nervous apprehension sent a rush of compassion and love through me. Yes, she might be a pervert. Yes, she had been playing mind-games with me, but I knew that she loved me and I loved her. I wanted to make her happy.

So I opened my top lingerie drawer and selected a padded bra. I held it up for her inspection and asked her if she would mind helping me put it on.

"It's my first bra, Sally, and I could do with your help."

The wide smile on her face as she put aside her stockings to come to my assistance was justification for the little lie which my willing selection of a bra represented.

She showed me how to put it on, telling me that as with a garter-belt, it was easiest to put it on backwards so as to fasten it in front of my body and then turn it around. She said that if I actually had breasts, I could fit them into the cups as I turned it around.

She helped me adjust the shoulder straps so that the heavily padded bra gave me the appearance of possessing small breasts at the right height.

She watched me select a garter-belt which matched the bra and she left me to put it on as she returned to the bed and pulled one stocking up a smooth, shapely leg. I finished adjusting the garter-belt and watched as she fastened the tabs of hers to the top of the stocking. I knew that I was about to repeat that performance myself, so I paid close attention. My inner self noted that I was focused more on how to do it than on the sensuality of watching her do it. I was thinking as a girl, about to get dressed up for the first time rather than a s a male watching his girlfriend perform a very feminine act.

I chose a pair of white nylons which I saw, as I pulled the first one up my leg, had floral patterns woven into the gossamer fabric. The coolness I experienced as I rolled the nylon up my leg was a new thrill for me. It really was fun getting dressed! I felt only a minor pang of guilt as I admitted that to myself.

I stood after fastening both stockings to my garter-belt and felt for the first time the delicious tug of each stocking against the tabs when I walked to the dresser to select my slip.

Sally told me to think about what gown I wanted to wear to dinner. My slip should let my dress hang properly, but should not itself be visible. If I were to chose a backless evening dress, then I would want a half-slip. She suggested that I wear the black gown she had bought for me. I opened my section of the closet and took it out.

It was a floor-length sleeveless dress in black silk, with a low-cut bodice and a waist gathered by a satin belt. The bodice itself had several flounced layers of black silk, while the skirt flared at the hips and then fell in a narrowing sheath, split on the right side by a slit which came up to the knee.

Sally suggested that I chose a full slip with a corresponding slit, so that anyone watching would get a glimpse of my leg when I walked, rather than a expanse of slip.

I combed through my lingerie until I found the one she was talking about. It too was black, with lace bodice and trim.

The nightgowns and camisoles I had worn previously had not felt very special. I had worn them to humor Sally, and I had consciously been a boy pretending to be a girl. Now, after Sally's intense barrage of manipulations and surprises, I had been beaten down into accepting that for now I was to live as a girl. Perhaps that explains why the slip felt so good against my skin as I pulled it over my head, taking care not to let its silk touch my face, and thus disturb my freshly-repaired makeup.

Or perhaps it was the combination of the slip against my stockings which sent electric chills through my body as I adjusted the slender spaghetti straps of my slip.

I walked back to the closet, reveling at the combination of never-before experienced sensations. The rug felt deep and plush beneath my stockinged feet. My legs felt cool and alive as they passed through the air while I walked. My slip swished against my thighs, and my nylons tugged against their tabs. I felt the unfamiliar tightness of the bra straps and the weight of the padded bra on my chest. I could feel my makeup, and faintly taste to strawberry flavor of my lipstick.

Sally helped me put on my dress, and without her I could never have done up the back buttons, which were tiny black pearls.

"One of man's best uses" she commented as she fastened them.

"If you don't have a man in your bedroom, then you need a maid!"

She left me standing in front of the closet, looking at my reflection, as she struggled into her dress. It was identical to mine, except that she wore white where I wore black. I fastened the buttons in the back of her dress and as I did so I asked her whether this meant that I was her man or her maid. She laughed and said that I could be either or both; she preferred both!

We stood side by side and I was surprised to see that we could have been mistaken for sisters. She was light, and blonde while I was darker skinned and my hair was almost black. However, that contrast, emphasized by my choice of black and hers of white, served to heighten the similarity rather than diminish it. We were almost exactly the same height and our shoulders were the same width. Hers were wide for a woman, which came from her background as a competitive swimmer, while I had always been lightly built for a man. Our breasts seemed much the same size, although of course mine were illusory while hers were, as I knew so well, very real. The biggest difference was in our hips. She had the classic hourglass flare while my dress hung a little loose around my slender hips. I ran my hands down the sides of my dress as I realized this.

'Don't worry, honey" she said. "we can always fix that if you want"

She must have been a mind-reader to have picked up on that thought.

She then brought out several matching pairs of shoes in white and black. All of them had heels taller than anything I had yet worn. I chose a simple pair of open-toed heels with no back, held on by delicate ankle straps secured by tiny buckles. Standing in them was an adventure, especially in deep carpet. Sally had me walk back and forth for several minutes before she agreed to let me wear them. They did have the highest heels of the group; maybe 5 inches. I felt as if I were about to topple forwards and had to learn to walk on the balls of my feet. I noticed that my butt seemed to protrude more than it had before, and a sideways glance in the mirror showed that I now filled out the rear of my dress in a very appealing manner. I thought for a second about what Mr. Jansen, or (worse) Curt might think if he could see me now. Then I realized, with a shiver, that Mr. Jansen probably was going to see me like this, in just a few minutes.

Sally offered me a choice of jewelry including some gold clip- on earrings. As I pondered my choice, turning one pair over in my hand, she told me that tomorrow she would have my ears pierced so that we could share earrings. I made my decision and she showed me how to fasten them to my ears. They pinched as they went on, and I had a new feeling to add to my growing list of 'firsts' as I felt their weight pull on the lobes of my ears. I turned my head from side to side to admire the gleam of glow against my hair. But then Sally told me to take off my scrunchie. I did so and she spent the next several minutes brushing out my hair. She tried brushing it into a couple of different styles but finally told me to put it back into a pony-tail.

"We have to get you to a beauty parlor" she said.

"Your hair is long enough and thick enough to do something pretty, but it really needs styling"

We went down to dinner, with Sally following me as I climbed gingerly down, clinging to the handrail as I teetered on my heels. I think we were both relieved when I made it to the bottom without falling. The heels were challenging by themselves, but the fact that I was wearing a floor-length evening gown as well made it almost impossible. I could hardly see my feet at all.

The dinner table was resplendent in white linen, silver cutlery, and bone-china settings.

Mr. Jansen was there, and I can only assume that his wife had given him a lecture about being polite, since he greeted us with respect and held out my chair first. I tried to avoid looking at him, but I was acutely conscious of his presence as he pushed the chair in beneath me as I sat, smoothing my dress beneath me as Sally had cautioned me to do.

He did the same for Sally and then picked up the linen napkin and spread it on her lap. He moved around towards me and I came close to panic. I began to reach for my own napkin, in an effort to forestall him. He was too quick for me. He unfolded it with a flourish and, leaning forward slightly, so close that I could smell his masculine aftershave and sense his body-heat, he spread it expertly on my lap. His face was close to mine and I could have sworn that I heard him whisper in my ear as he straightened.

It was so quick that he was standing well back before I realized that he had said "You're adorable"

Blood rushed to my cheek as I absorbed this remark. I turned my head to snatch glance at him but he was looking towards Sally with a calm, deferential look as he asked "Ladies, will you start with some wine?"

His manner was so much that of a maitre d' that I had to look at Sally and then stifle a giggle. The humor of the situation struck me all at once, and I almost burst out laughing. Maybe I could handle this girl thing for a while. It might be fun to torment Mr. Harry Jansen. He might find me adorable and maybe he would fantasize about me when in bed with his wife. That didn't make me gay! Maybe I should play along; even flirt a little. I decided that I would ask Sally about that when we were alone.

Sally ordered a Chardonnay for our endive salad, which was served in small but exquisitely presented portions. We sipped our wine and took small bites of our salad as we chatted. Sally did most of the talking, and was full of compliments about how I looked and how well I was adjusting. She spoke of her plans for the summer, which seemed mostly to consist of staying at home and having a good time with me.

She did talk about getting me into town where I could get my hair done and maybe go shopping to buy my own clothes. Shopping was a major joy for girls, and I had to learn to enjoy it if I was going to truly get in touch with my feminine side. I played along, aware all the time of Mr. Jansen's presence as he came and went with dishes, wine and so on. I Smiled and laughed and talked about how much I was enjoying my clothes, and how much fun O was going to have as a girl. Sally looked surprised, but I winked at her and nodded in the direction of the departing Mr. Jansen as he removed our salad plates. She got the message and waited until he was coming back in before asking me whether I thought that Curt or Joe were attractive men.

I almost choked on my wine when she said this. I couldn't help look at Mr. Jansen and was pleased to see that his face had turned almost white. It was with obvious strain in his face that he asked whether we wished a different wine with the soup.

Sally told him that we'd like a Merlot, and as the door swung shut behind him we burst out laughing. I am sure that he could hear us, and it must have hurt him cruelly to know that we were having fun at his expense. It served him right for whispering in my ear!

Sally sobered.

"Really, Michael. Do you think that they are cute? I know you're not gay, but think as a girl for a moment"

"Well, I guess they are. They're both big, strong guys, with good bodies."

I felt uneasy talking about them in this way, dressed as I was. The memory of Curt as I had thought he was going to kiss me sprang into my mind, and I blushed as I realized that that might not have been as unpleasant as it should have been.

Sally noticed the color in my cheeks and she laughed as she pressed me to tell her everything.

"C'mon" she said. "We're girlfriends and best girlfriends. We tell each other everything. Boys don't do that but girls do. You have to learn that: we're much more emotionally open and honest with each other than boys are allowed to be. You think one of them is really cute, don't you."

I lowered my face and shook my head in a gesture of denial.

"And I bet it's Curt" she added triumphantly.

I looked up.

"OK, yes. Curt's a good-looking man. There, I've said it. And I think you prefer Joe. That's why you've raised this with me, isn't it?"

"Honey, you're the only boyfriend or girlfriend I want. But you are right. If I didn't have you, I might go for Joe, and if I did that, you'd have to keep Curt happy, or it wouldn't be fair. I think both of you would like that.."

"Sally!" I exclaimed. "I'm not gay, and I'm not going to become gay"

"Don't be so prissy, Michael" she said.

"I'm not talking about being gay. I'm talking about enjoying normal human feelings and reactions. I love you the way you were and the way you are now. If I had sex with Joe that wouldn't mean I love him; just that I think that the two of us would enjoy the experience. We only go around once in life, and it's silly to deny yourself, or anyone else, the chance to have enjoyment just because of what so-called society thinks. And if you'd let yourself react as a girl rather than as an uptight prissy wuss, then if you liked Curt, and he liked you, why on earth wouldn't you let it happen?"

That was the longest and most impassioned speech I'd heard from her in a while.

"You mean you want sex with Joe?" I asked.

"No, silly. I'm talking hypotheticals here. I'm trying to get you to loosen up, because sticking to an out-dated irrelevant moral code where you allow others to dictate how you feel is what's caused you all the grief you've experienced these past two days. If you'd be honest, you'd admit that you like at least some of being a girl .You like the clothes, I can tell. You like the way you look. And I think that you could learn to enjoy some make attention, without necessarily becoming a nymphomaniac!"

I thought about what she had said, and it seemed to make sense. I was all dressed up, and it had felt good. I was having fun playing with Mr. Jansen's sexual attraction towards me, rather than getting all outraged about it. I don't think I could have reacted to his feelings in this way had I learned of them two days ago, so obviously I had gone through some changes already. Why not go all the way; throw out my inner inhibitions, and let myself enjoy whatever this summer had to offer?

I reached out and took Sally's hands in mine and looked her in the eyes.

"Thank you, Sally. I'll try to follow your advice. And yes, I think Curt is cute. I also think that he likes me. I think he was getting an erection looking at me at lunch"

"How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know any more. It really bothered me when I first noticed it, just as learning about Mr. Jansen's thing for boys in dresses bothered me. But it's their problem, not mine. I'm not attracted to men, so as long as I remember that I'm only doing this for you, and only for a short time, then I don't see why I can't have some fun with it!"

Sally's teeth gleamed white as she smiled at me.

"I'm so happy that you've come around. I was worried that maybe I'd misjudged your inner strength. Not every boy would be flexible enough and strong enough to let go of his macho image for weeks at a time, if at all"

It seemed as if I'd made some kind of internal shift, so that I was seeing things from a feminine perspective. Perhaps humans were too bound up in their own sexuality; seeing themselves as male or female, and neveer understanding the other's point of view. We were like two different species, meeting only at the boundary where sex happened. I was beginning to understand why Sally might want a lover who had experienced life on her side of the boundary. With the dawning of that understanding came a physical relaxation and acceptance. I decided to enjoy my new status as much as I could, with no reservations or guilt.

As with any truly enjoyable experience, the meal seemed to last forever and yet be over all too soon. We had drunk too much wine, especially since all of the portions had been very small. Sally had commented that I had to stay on a strict diet if I was going to be able to fit into all of the clothes she had already bought for me, and those which she hoped to buy with me. I expressed concern that she was spending far too much money on me, since I was going to be a girl only until September, but she pointed out that we were very much the same size and that almost anything I wore would either fit her immediately or could be altered very easily.

I only realized just how much wine I had drunk when I stood at the end of the meal, to go to the little girl's room, as I jokingly called it, before retiring to our room with my lover. The room swam in my vision for a second, and Sally reached out for me. Fortunately I regained my somewhat precarious balance and walked very carefully indeed to the bathroom. I had to remember to keep my weight entirely on the balls of my feet, which was difficult since I have always been a heel-striker when I walk, wearing down the heels of all of my shoes.

Taking a leak was a novel experience, one to add to my catalogue. I stood in front of the toilet for several seconds, wondering how best to go about it. I couldn't take my dress off even if I wanted to, unless I tore it off. I couldn't quite reach all of the buttons on the back, and my drink-dulled co-ordination was such that I'm not sure I could have undone them all anyway. The thought of redoing them afterwards was the final deterrent. That left two choices. Hitch up my dress and slip, and pull down my panties, and then somehow remove the gaff and then pee standing up, or bow to the inevitable and sit down.

Of course I sat. I felt awkward and it was difficult to remove the gaff when all fabric obscured my vision, but all was well and I eventually stood, and smoothed my dress. A glance into the mirror reminded me forcefully of how much I had changed, but now I accepted my appearance. Indeed, it was so 'right' that I was able to see myself more clearly than before even though I knew that I had drunk too much to imagine I was sober. I was pretty, I thought to myself, but maybe not as pretty as I had thought when I had first seen what makeup could do for a girl or boy. I still had some things to learn, and Sally was right about losing a few pounds. My face would be more interesting, I thought, if my cheekbones were more visible, and losing weight might help that happen. I leaned close to the mirror to see whether any beard was visible. Mrs. Jansen had made me shave extra close, and I still hadn't got to the point of needing to shave every day. I was satisfied that there was no tell-tale shadow to give away my true gender.

I minced my way out of the bathroom to find Sally waiting for me. She allowed me to walk by her before she entered the bathroom and closed the door.

"My turn!" she announced brightly as she passed me.

"See you upstairs, honey"

I turned to head towards the stairs. The hallway leading from the dining room to the entrance from whence the stairs led away had several passages opening off of it, leading to various areas of this enormous house. Mr. Jansen was standing at the next passageway, obviously waiting for me. He smiled as I approached, and gave a odd little bow.

For a moment a trace of my former fear surfaced, but it vanished almost before it registered. I stopped in front of him and thanked him for a wonderful meal.

"Please be sure to tell Mrs. Jansen how much we enjoyed her cooking. She really knows how to make two girls feel happy"

I placed some emphasis on the words 'two girls' while watching his expression closely. He flushed and looked away while visibly exerting control. He must have come there hoping against hope to see me as I left, and my speaking to him was probably part of a fantasy for him, and now I was acknowledging that I had become what for him was the ultimate object of desire. Part of him must have realized that I was only making fun of him, yet I am sure that part of him seized upon my words as a signal or message that perhaps, unlikely as it might be, his fantasy could become reality.

I left him there without another word. I was partway up the stairs, holding on to the rail because of my poor balance, when I looked down. He was still standing at the corner. He had not moved. His face was turned towards the floor. A pang of guilt struck me, as I realized that deviant though he was, he was still a human being, with all of the capacity for pleasure and heartache that that implied. He had done nothing overt to me, other than to pay what I'm sure he thought was a compliment, albeit one he should never have volunteered. Yet I was making mock of him. I resolved that I would be less cruel to him on the future.

When I got to our room I sat on the bed and took of my heels, breathing a sigh of relief as I did so. I lay down with my back on the bed and my stockinged feet on the carpet, waiting for Sally to arrive.

She was there within a couple of minutes and we took turns undoing each other's gown. I nibbled on her bare shoulders as I helped her out of her dress. She arched her head back as I moved my lips across her warm, satiny skin. I chewed lightly on her ear, and turned her slowly around to face me. By now I was out of my dress, but still wore my slip and the rest of my lingerie. I pulled down her dress, so that the tops of her breasts became visible. I gently moved the straps of her slip off of her shoulders and reached behind her to undo her bra. I lowered first one cup and then the other, revealing her firm breasts in all their glory. Her nipples, centered in her wide brown aureoles, were already erect before I began flicking my tongue across then while looking up at her face. Her eyes were half-closed and she murmured and moaned as I continued to suckle, nibble and kiss her breasts.

Then she reached out and pushed me back a little. We took turns undressing each other. She treated my nipples, small and hard as they were, to the same attentions I had given her. It was the first time anyone had ever sucked or nibbled on my breasts, and the feel of her teeth biting at me was an extraordinary turn- on. I became in a rush to get us naked, but she refused to hurry. She made me kneel by her side to unfasten her nylons from her garter-belt and then I had to slowly remove her stockings while she sat on the bed, by now wearing only her panties. Unbidden I took each of her toes into my mouth, one at a time, sucking gently.

We reversed roles and she undid my garters and removed my nylons, as I sat on the bed looking down at her with love and lust co-mingled. She sucked my toes and kissed the insides of my legs, moving slowly, slowly up to my panties. I was in a great deal of pain by this time since blood had been trying to engorge my penis for several minutes even though it was tightly bound by my gaff.

Sally must have discerned my discomfort since she beckoned for me to stand. She pulled down my panties and helped me release my penis, which instantly sprang to full attention.

She stood in front of me, so close that my penis was resting in the vee formed by her thighs, touching the front of her panties. We embraced, kissing passionately. We broke apart and she took off her panties and told me to lie on the bed, as she went into the bathroom for a second.

I was lying on my back, with my penis raised like a flag-pole when she returned. She had two cylindrical objects, one in either hand. They looked suspiciously like erect penises, even to the color and the shape of the ends which protruded from her grip.

She sat down on the bed and held these two objects out for my inspection.

"It's time you learned some more 'girl' secrets" she said.

"These are vibrators. You'll find out that we don't need men in order to have a good time! We can play with these and have the best of both worlds"

"What's wrong with this?" I asked, petulantly, while indicating my cock, which had begun to flag with her words.

"We've decided to be girls together, haven't we?" she replied.

"That means you have to learn to enjoy sex as a girl would"

Thus began my training in a different kind of sexual relationship; one in which my penis was very much an afterthought rather than, as I had thought in a self-centered manner, the main feature.

She showed me, through placing my hands and through giving me instructions, how to stimulate her manually and with my lips and tongue. She licked and sucked on me as we lay together. Whenever I neared orgasm, she would back off and slow down, just stroking me softly. She had orgasm early, her body spasming as I lay between her thighs, her fragrant juices flowing and the smell of sex filling my head.

She told me that one of the joys of girl-girl sex was the possibility of each partner having multiple orgasms.

"Men usually have one orgasm, often without caring whether the girl has got off, and then most of the time they fall asleep!" she said.

I thought with chagrin of how I had done just that several times when we had first begun sleeping together.

"You may still only be capable of one orgasm at a time, or at least you'll need a break before your penis can perform again. That's why you have to learn sex as a girl"

She showed me how to use the vibrator on her. She was so wet that it slid in easily and I could feel it's motion against the palm of my hand when I pressed the button. She moved it in and out, her hand guiding mine as I held it between her legs. She came for a second time and lay back on the bed, breathing hard as I rested on one elbow looking down at her.

She regained her breath and told me that now it was my turn. She turned over and reached across to pull open a drawer on the night-table beside the bed. I watched as she extracted a small plastic jar of Vaseline.

"You'll need this for lubrication" she said.

I was hesitant. I knew what I had to do but I wasn't sure that it was right. I remembered my decision as I had come upstairs: I would try my best, and ignore my old inhibitions. I took the proffered jar and twisted the top to remove it. I picked up 'my' vibrator from the bed where it had laid during our sex so far, and coated it with a generous layer of Vaseline.

With Sally sitting beside me, giving me advice and encouragement, I placed a small pillow under my ass and spread my legs. Operating by feel and with some help from Sally I placed the tip of the vibrator against my sphincter. It felt cold. I swallowed nervously and took a deep breath while trying to relax.

As I let out my breath, I pushed the vibrator inside. I felt my sphincter muscles resist and than part and the vibrator was inside. I had almost completely lost my erection while doing this, but as I pushed it deeper into me, I felt it touch something inside and my cock sprang fully erect.

"Way to go, honey!" Sally beamed.

"Now turn it on and move it slowly"

I did so.

Immediately my rectum, which felt disturbingly full, came alive. The plastic vibrator buzzed and I could feel it overwhelming me. I moved it back just a tiny amount and then deeper into me. It may have been my prostate that it was pressing against, but whatever it was, it was very stimulating.

Sally let go of my hand, where she had been guiding my motions, and took hold of my penis. She masturbated me in time with the movement of my hand. As I neared orgasm she told me what to say out loud; what to cry out as loudly as I could, and I obeyed, unable while in the throes of passion to think of anything but this incredible pleasure I was experiencing.

So it was that anyone passing by the room, or standing with his ear to the door, as I later learned Mr. Jansen was doing, would have heard me scream:

"I love being a girlÉ I love being a girl"

Afterwards we lay still for a while, the vibrator now quiescent in my rectum, and my cum sticky on my lower abdomen. Sally herself seemed satiated and relaxed, her hands making slow circles around my nipples as we lay together. She finally roused the both of us and insisted that we shower, after first removing our makeup.

After drying ourselves off, we chose matching red satin babydoll nightgowns and returned to bed, this time getting beneath the covers.

As I drifted off to sleep I thought back on this eventful day, and smiled as I thought of how tomorrow could not possibly bring as many changes.

Next morning we were awoken, as had become customary, by Mrs. Jansen bringing us breakfast. I no longer felt the least bit shy about appearing before her in feminine attire, and I climbed out of bed to head to the bathroom while she was in the process of setting our breakfast tray on the table.

I wished her good morning and thanked her for bringing us breakfast and she smiled as she assured me ("Miss Michael") that it was no trouble at all.

It was fun getting dressed with Sally, talking about which lingerie to wear. She suggested that given that it was a Monday, I should wear my Monday panties, to which I promptly agreed. She also said that since I was supposed to be working for the summer, perhaps I should dress accordingly.

"I don't think I can work outside in a dress, and I don't seem to have any boy's clothing left" I smiled, pretending to be upset at this lack.

"We don't hire girls to work outside, honey. That's men's work. That's why we have those two young studs, Joe and Curt. No, your new job will be as a housemaid, assisting Mrs. Jansen. You'll find a cute blue dress in the closet that will do perfectly"

Sure enough I found a modest looking medium blue dress, with short sleeves, and a plain hem which came to about three inches above the knee. It did look a bit like a uniform dress, especially compared to the pretty pale yellow sundress Sally wore. I thought about protesting but I had to accept that I was supposed to be earning my keep.

I spent the morning learning how to dust; how to polish silver; and how to iron clothes. Mrs. Jansen was a perfectionist, but she was kind about correcting my mistakes, and rewarded me with praise whenever I did something right. It did not take long before each task fell into a rhythm.

I was in the kitchen helping Mrs. Jansen clean vegetables in preparation for making soup when Curt knocked on the open French door and came in, asking whether he and Curt could use the pool while they had lunch. He promised that they would shower before getting in the water. He was speaking to Mrs. Jansen and I thought for a moment that he was going to ignore me completely. For some reason, that annoyed me. Yesterday I had been embarrassed and humiliated by his reaction to me, but now I looked for some acknowledgment that he saw me, and that he found me attractive.

It came just as he turned to go. He looked at me and winked.

"You're looking especially pretty this morning, Miss Michael" he said.

He walked away and I found myself watching him as he left. He walked with a very masculine gait; oozing male self-assurance.

"That young man!" Mrs. Jansen said. "He's getting quite above himself, coming on to you like that. He knows that you belong to Miss Sally, and here he is flirting with you"

She looked at me, and saw how I had followed Curt with my gaze.

"And as for you, young lady, you put those thoughts right out of your mind. He may be a very attractive young man, I'll give you that. And you are becoming a very attractive young woman. But you belong to Miss Sally as I said, so I hope you're not getting any ideas about him!"

Her expression belied the harsh words she spoke. Clearly she was amused by Curt's behaviour and my reaction. As for me, her words acted like a bucket of cold water thrown in my face. I turned away from the doors and focused on my task, banishing the sight of Curt from my mind.

Thus began a period of time during which I gradually lost touch with my masculine identity. I worked about five hours a day five days a week as a housemaid, under the direction of Mrs. Jansen and spent the rest of the time as Sally's girlfriend. Warm sunny days followed one after the other, and life took on a routine in a manner which I would have sworn was impossible had anyone suggested it earlier. Each morning we were woken by Mrs. Jansen who invariably served us breakfast in our bedroom. Each such meal was accompanied by glasses of fresh-squeezed juices; orange for me and grapefruit for Sally.

Curt still flirted with me, but somehow I was never alone with him. Neither he nor Joe ever came into any part of the house other than the kitchen or the bathroom immediately off that room. As for me, I only worked in the kitchen when Mrs. Jansen was present.

Matters changed maybe a month after I had begun dressing as a girl all the time. Sexually that month had seen a slow progression to the point that Sally and I rarely had 'normal' intercourse anymore. I was allowed penetration once a week, and then only if I had been a 'good girl'. We still had sex every night, and several times a week we had sex in the day as well, usually as I was getting changed from my maid's outfit. Seeing me in those dresses seemed to excite Sally for some reason.

Perhaps part of it was that I had begun to fill out those dresses, and my other clothes, in what was to me a surprising fashion. I had actually lost weight. Sally felt that it was inappropriate for me to do any training or heavy work, but she encouraged me to join her in aerobics. There were times when I thought that she was imposing a double standard since she did do weight training, but she explained that I had had too much testosterone when younger, so I already had too much muscle bulk. If I was to truly get in touch with the feminine side of my personality, to become her perfect lover before resuming my male life, then I had to learn to be a member of the weaker sex in more ways than one.

It was for this reason that she and Mrs. Jansen carefully monitored my food intake. I weighed myself each day and faithfully recorded the changes on a note-pad kept by the scales for that purpose. After losing eight pounds, I was surprised to find that my padded bras were becoming tighter, while at the same time my chest seemed different. My nipples seemed a little larger and were definitely far more sensitive. Even the slightest brush against them began to send tingles of electricity through me, while Sally's teasing of them during sex became a highlight of our evenings in bed.

There was no way to deny the changes even to myself. I was developing breasts! By the end of the first month I had definite, although small, breasts, with pert upturned nipples. Sally gave me some new bras, with less padding, while deflecting my persistent questioning. I knew that somehow I was being fed hormones, but Sally would not comment and I was too humiliated to ask Mrs. Jansen.

My breasts were not the only change. My waist became slimmer while my butt seemed larger. I filled out my panties and saw that I was developing a much more mature female appearance. Daily application of lotion to my face seemed to inhibit what scant beard I had been capable of growing, and my face seemed smoother each day.

Meanwhile, I serviced Sally in bed almost entirely with my mouth and fingers, while I had become so conditioned to being fucked with the vibrator that I began getting an erection as soon as Sally showed it to me. We each had our own vibrators which we kept in the night-table beside the bed. It was this that indirectly led to the next major change.

An old water pipe running along the inside of the wall in our bedroom, up above the plaster, began to leak. Fortunately Sally noticed the damp ceiling before any real damage was done, but the plaster had to be removed and patched. This meant that we had to move for one night and also that our furniture had to be moved to facilitate access to the ceiling without exposing the bed to too much dust, or having anyone stand on it while working on the ceiling.

Sally thought that it would be too much for Mr. Jansen to do all of this work himself and she would not let me help: such work was man's work!

So it came to pass that Curt and Joe not only gained access to the inner part of the house, they got all the way into our bedroom.

Sally insisted that we be there while they were moving furniture, to make sure that they did not ruin anything. She was giving them directions while I stood around feeling useless and ineffectual. I rarely felt any more embarrassment at being around the guys while dressed as a maid, since it had become normal for me. But my cheeks burned again, when the boys stumbled while moving the night-table and the top drawer flew open. Two vibrators spilled onto the carpet. I jerked awake, but Joe was too fast for me. He reached down and picked them up, while both he and Curt lowered the table to the floor.

He stood looking at these two phalluses with amusement written all over his face. He held them out to Sally.

"Here, Miss Sally. I'm not sure what these things are but I think that they belong to you and Miss Michael"

Sally burst out laughing.

"Joe, don't give me that bullshit! You know exactly what these things are. They are what we girls use when there are no manly studs like you and Curt around with the real thing!"

Curt was staring at the floor. I'm not sure which of us was the more embarrassed, but it was evident that both Sally and Joe saw the episode as hilarious. My heart warmed to Curt for the way that he shared my reaction, while I felt a twinge of anger at the other two for their shamelessness.

Indeed, Sally and Joe seemed altogether too relaxed and friendly for my liking. I fussed around the room, casting tight- lipped glances at Sally and trying to get in between her and Joe as she led them from our bedroom to my old room, where we were to spend the night. Sally noticed the way I was acting and sternly told me to go help Mrs. Jansen with the laundry.

I left, grumbling to myself, and I was still in a bad mood when we finally went to bed that evening. Sex had its usual salutary effect, and soon I was screaming in pleasure once more as Sally moved the vibrator in and out of my asshole while sucking on my cock.

The next day was a Saturday and the guys were not working. It turned out that Sally had invited them to use the pool all day and they were already poolside by the time we arrived there, carrying our books and glasses of iced tea. I was wearing bikini bottoms under a simple wrap skirt and a blouse with the ends tied around my mid-riff, leaving my tummy bare. I had on only basic makeup; a little eyeliner and some lipstick. Sally was in a bikini, which emphasized her body while only pretending to conceal her attributes.

I had no bra on under my blouse, and had expected to sunbathe top-less. I knew that the Jansen's had the day off and I had expected that Sally and I would be alone. It was with a mild shock that I saw the two boys reclining in poolside loungers when we entered the enclosure.

They both stood when we walked in and complimented us on our appearance while thanking Sally for allowing them to join us.

"That's ok, boys" she said.

"I think we needed some male company today. Two girls all by themselves can get bored, you know"

She smiled at me as she said this, and I looked down at the concrete deck in confusion. I heard Joe laugh, and I couldn't help but sneak a peek at Curt, to gauge his reaction. He was pink-faced and looking everywhere but me. Once again, I felt a warmth towards him as I observed his response to this outrageous flirtation by Sally.

We all laid down on loungers. I sat with my book in my lap and tried to concentrate on reading. It was the third in a series written by some hack romance novelist. Sally had insisted that I read nothing but romance novels and several times a week she would quiz me on the latest I had read. She always wanted to know details of the clothes that the heroine wore, or how the heroine had reacted to her first meeting with her eventual lover. She would ask me to picture myself as the heroine and describe whether I felt that the author's descriptions of her emotions and her attraction to the hero were realistic. If so, why? What did I think that I would have felt? And so on. It was all 'part of learning to feel as a woman'; to help me understand Sally better, or so she said.

Sally called out to me to stop being shy and take my blouse off.

I looked at her, trying to plead with her through my eyes. I did not want the boys to see my breasts. She ignored any message she may have seen and repeated her command, while at the same time removing the top of her bikini.

There was nothing I could do when faced with that example. I removed my blouse, trying to turn my body so that neither Curt nor Joe could see my chest. I laid back quickly, raising the book in front of me like a shield.

I glanced over at the boys.

Joe was looking with undisguised admiration at Sally's magnificent breasts; a gaze which Sally seemed to accept as no more than her due. Curt, on the other hand, was trying to look at me, while at the same time, trying painfully to avoid appearing as if he were doing so. He looked so sheepish as my eyes caught his, that I had to laugh.

With that laugh came a sense of release, and I sat up while lowering the book.

'Let me have a full look' I thought to myself.

'Then he can look at Sally, and he'll lose interest in me!'

But he didn't.

Sure, he looked at Sally, but it was obvious that he preferred looking at me. I felt mixed emotions as that realization dawned. My mind flashed back to some of the questions Sally had pestered me with about my books and the heroines' reactions to their men. I realized that I was now in the same position as some of those fictional women. Here was a man who was clearly attracted to me, but who might be too shy to do anything about it.

Did I want him to do anything about it?

The question appeared with shocking clarity in my mind. I didn't know the answer, or if I did, I wasn't yet able to admit it to myself.

Despite my continuing confusion on that question, I resolved to relax and act as if everything were perfectly normal. In fact, when I decided that I needed some more ice tea, I stood and walked over to where Curt was lying and asked him, in my best sultry voice, whether he would like me to get him anything from house.

He had been lying with his eyes closed, soaking up the mid- morning sun which was not yet so hot that we needed to take advantage of the shade from the large, colorful umbrellas.

He opened his eyes and I saw with an inner thrill that his glance flashed from my face to my breasts and then back. I could not be sure but I thought that his pupils had dilated slightly as he looked at me.

Perhaps there was an element of cruelty in my having come over to him. Ordinarily it would have been Sally I asked, but she had moved to a lounger next to Joe and they were lying side-by-side on their stomachs, their heads turned towards each other while they chatted quietly. I had felt somewhat jealous and I thought that by paying attention to Curt, maybe I could make Sally realize that she had been ignoring me.

Perhaps there had been some other factor at play as well. The truth was, I realized as I watched the color come again to Curt's cheeks as he realized that he had been ogling my breasts, and that I had seen him do it, that I liked Curt. He was a pleasant young man, and, I had to admit, a very attractive young man. If I were one of the heroines in my books, I would have been in love with him by now and would have been trying to find some way of getting him to overcome his shyness. After all, as the girl I was supposed to be the passive one while he was supposed to be the aggressor. I had learned through my reading that sometimes the girl had to drop all kinds of hints before the boy got the message. I knew from my own experience that sometimes a boy might desire a girl but be too afraid of rejection to make a move.

If that was the case with Curt, and if I wanted him to pay more open attention to me, then I had to make him realize that he need not fear rejection.

Finally, he stammered his thanks and asked for some ice tea.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like something else?" I asked, smiling coyly at him.

"Perhaps a beer, or something?"

"N..no, thank you" he replied.

I leaned across him, my nipples coming within inches of his face, as I picked up his empty glass from the table beside him. I knew without any need to look that his eyes were on my breasts as I did so, and I felt happy and content as I walked away towards the kitchen, with an extra sway to my hips. I think that Sally and Joe must have witnessed the end of this little by-play since I heard the two of them laugh a out loud as I left, and they were both watching with unfeigned attention when I returned.

I carried the two tall glasses of tea over to Curt, condensation misting on the glasses. He was sitting up and he too was watching me approach. I kept my eyes on his, daring him to look away. To his credit he met my gaze steadily as I minced over to him, every step exaggerating my femininity. The only flicker in his gaze came when he looked at my breasts, which must have been bouncing just a little with my steps.

I knelt beside him, our heads at a level, and handed him his glass. He never took his eyes from mine as he accepted my offering, and for several seconds we were frozen as in a tableau.

Our faces were perhaps twelve inches apart. I could see the pores in his skin, and the individual roots of the hairs in his eyebrows. His blue eyes looked out from a tanned face, whose regular features seemed right off the cover of a romance novel. He was no longer blushing and his expression was one of sincerity and admiration. His left hand rested partly over my right as we both held the glass; I about to release it and he about to take it. His eyes flickered as they moved over my face. Now I was sure: his pupils were dilated and I suspect that mine were too, since I saw him with utmost clarity, as clearly as I had ever seen Sally while we were making love.

I felt a pressure in my groin. Only my gaff was preventing an erection and with that thought I broke our gaze and released his drink while rising in one smooth motion to my feet. I could not help but glance at his lap as I stood, and he, of course, was not wearing a gaff!

His reaction to me, his desire for me was evident for all to see. Even Joe and Sally must have been able to detect the enormous bulge in Curt's bathing trunks. Now it was my turn to blush as I realized that Curt was far better endowed than I was. His erection looked much larger than my vibrator, and I wondered what it would be like to be fucked by him.

I controlled the shiver I felt in my stomach as I returned to my lounger, and sat down pretending that nothing had happened.

I looked over at Sally and she winked at me. I looked away, blushing furiously. I guess I had no secrets from her!

The next time I looked up, Joe was oiling Sally's back, kneeling beside her and applying lotion with firm, practiced hands. Sally's head was turned so that I could see that her eyes were closed but her mouth was smiling. She was enjoying herself, and perhaps also anticipating the increasing warmth of the sun as noon approached.

Curt must have seen my look, because he stirred and came across to where I has half-sitting and half-reclining.

He seemed nervous, but determined. Perhaps the hero had deciphered the heroine's hints, I thought to myself.

"Michael, would you like me to oil your back for you? With your complexion you might get burnt"

I looked up at him, wavering between preserving my few remaining illusions of maleness and surrendering to what was becoming increasingly predestined. A groan of pleasure from Sally tipped the scales.

"I'd love that, Curt" I said, making sure that our eyes met. His were full of questions while I tried to assure him that I would give him all the answers he desired.

I stood and led him back across the warm concrete deck to a lounger next to his. I adjusted the back so that it lay flat and spread a towel over it before lying on my stomach. Curt uncapped a squeeze tube of lotion and began applying it to my back, starting up by my neck. I had never had another man lay his hands on me, and certainly would never have expected those hands to be expressing warmth and desire. I consciously relaxed my muscles, which had become tense in spite of or maybe because of my determination to be for Curt what Sally was being for Joe.

It felt wonderful, lying there as his strong fingers kneaded my back. He worked his way down my spine and then I felt him turn his attention to my legs. His hands moved between my thighs and I spread my legs apart a few inches to allow him access to the pale skin of my inner thighs.

The gaff held my penis imprisoned between my legs and he must have noticed the tell-tale bulge as he worked on my legs, but there was no sign of any reaction from him.

His massage went on for much longer than was strictly necessary for a full application of lotion, but I was not about to complain. I felt myself relaxing more and more; there was a feeling that whatever happened would be all right. I felt safe and protected as I lay there under his hands.

Eventually he sat back and I rolled on my side to face him.

"Thank you, Curt" I said. "That was wonderful.. You have a great touch"

He looked at me intently.

"I enjoyed it too" he said.

I felt a growing impulse to kiss him and I suspect that the feeling was reciprocal. I parted my lips and raised my face towards his, and he seemed about to lower his to mine, when Sally interrupted.

"Michael, honey.. I need you inside, if I can tear your away form Curt for just a minute"

I turned away and joined Sally as she led the way into the kitchen. I wasn't sure whether I was relieved or annoyed that she had interrupted me just when things may have been about to move to another level.

Sally stood by the kitchen sink rinsing out her glass, but it was obvious that she had brought me inside for some other reason. I was soon to learn what that reason was.

She told me that she had been watching Curt and me all morning and that she thoroughly approved of what she could see was happening. She had know the boys for almost her whole life, and she and Joe had been casual lovers for years. She had always liked Curt, who was a year younger than his brother, but he had always seemed to be in Joe's shadow. He had never had a steady girlfriend and she had worried about him. She had never seem him react to any girl the way he was reacting to me and she felt that he was the perfect candidate for my first boyfriend.

I started to protest, but she put a hand to my mouth to silence me while she told me that there was no use pretending that I wasn't interested. Besides, I owed it to myself to experience being a girl to the utmost!

Sally went on to say that she and Joe intended to take a walk through the garden to a spot near the ornamental pool beyond the formal garden. It was a favorite place of theirs for making love. Their departure would also allow Curt and me to explore our growing attraction for each other. Sally told me that she had asked Mrs. Jansen to ensure that my prettiest babydoll gown was lying on our bed if I wanted to ask Curt upstairs.

"And there's a jar of KY jelly next to the bed, honey"

I couldn't believe my ears, or my response to her words. My girlfriend was telling me to take Curt to bed; to enjoy him as any young, sexy woman would enjoy her manly boyfriend. She was encouraging me to surrender completely, and my body was telling me that I was thrilled to do so. My penis throbbed in time with my racing heart and I felt faint.

"Are you sure about this" I asked.

"Yes, my dear. It's time that you stopped being Michael. You don't even need to be Miss Michael any more. It's time for Michelle to come out"

I smiled.

'Michelle'

It sounded so much better than Miss Michael.

We held hands as we walked out to the pool.

"Boys, I'd like you to meet Michelle. She's realized that she truly is a girl. Something I think Curt, in particular, has known for a long time!"

Joe and Curt stood and greeted me with "Hi Michelle!"

Sally walked over to Joe and took him by the hand.

"See you two later!" she smiled, as she led her companion out towards the garden.

That left Curt and I standing awkwardly, some ten feet apart. I could see that he still had an erection, and when he saw where I was looking, it seemed that he came to some internal decision. He walked over to me and took me in his arms. We were so close that I could feel the heat of his sun-warmed body and smell the very male scent of his sweat. His arms were strong and he towered over me. I felt both helpless and protected in his embrace.

I looked up at his smiling face and this time I knew that there would be no interruption of our kiss. I parted my lips slightly and tilted my head back, proffering myself to him. He lowered his face to mine and our lips met.

My experience with kisses, other than affectionate kisses with female relatives, had been limited to kissing girls, and especially Sally. Even though in many ways Sally had been the aggressor in our relationship, I had until very recently always been the one who pressed hardest, or whose tongue entered the other's mouth first when french kissing. And Sally's mouth was always soft, her lips yielding. Even in my recently-learned submissive state, there had been nothing masculine about the way in which she kissed me. To the contrary, she had been stressing how important it was for us to exhibit tenderness and gentleness towards each other even in the heat of passion.

So it was a surprise to me to feel the dry firmness of his lips, and a further surprise to feel his tongue press against my lips, forcing wide the opening which I had subconsciously promised him when I had parted them.

The pressure of his arms held me captive as we embraced, his erection pressing through his trunks and against my abdomen. My blood was roaring in my ears and I was beginning to feel dizzy from a lack of oxygen when he finally released me. He still held me in his arms, although in a more relaxed manner, as he looked me in the eyes, his flickering from one to the other as if he were trying to see inside my soul. His expression suggested that a bomb could have gone off immediately behind him and his concentration on me would not have changed for even a micro-second. I felt then as if I were his entire world, his only desire, and that feeling struck a deep resonant chord within my very being. He wanted me, and I realized at that moment the truth of something which Sally had tried to explain to me earlier, but which had never made much sense to me.

She had told me that a major difference between men and women was that men wanted women while women wanted to be wanted by men. It was the desire to be desired, to be in fact a sex object, that in her view defined femininity. She acknowledged that that went counter to the philosophy espoused by most feminists, and she certainly acted in many regards as a feminist herself. But on the sexual front, she claimed that any attempt to view men and women as equals even to the extent of their basic desires was misguided.

Now I knew what she meant, as I enjoyed the thrill of realizing that I was the object of Curt's sexual desire. My body was telling me it wanted him, as I felt my nipples stiffen and my penis strain even harder against its constraints, but even more arousing to me mentally was the image I had of the two of us entwined in each other's arms as we stood beside the pool. It was as if I were standing to one side, as an onlooker. I could see in my mind's eye my feminized self, with a cute bubble-butt and small but pert breasts and long, styled hair leaning into the embrace of this tall handsome blond man, well muscled and clearly in lust with his girl. And the girl was me!

There was no need for words as we went inside. I held him by the hand and shyly led him upstairs to what had been my old bedroom, in which Sally and I had slept the previous night. The bed had been remade, and I had an inner smile as I realized how appropriate this bed was, compared to the larger, King-size bed in the other room. I would make love to Curt in a queen bed.

Just as Sally had told me, Mrs. Jansen had left my babydoll nightie on the bed covers. I picked it up and told Curt that I would be right back. I left him standing by the bed so that I could get changed in the bathroom, but he insisted on another long passionate kiss before he let me go. I almost decided to just strip and jump into bed with him right then and there, but I knew that Sally wanted me to wear this nightie as I experienced my first sexual act as a girl.

Once inside the bathroom, with the door closed, I quickly brushed my teeth. I wanted to taste fresh and clean for him.

I removed my bikini bottom and thought about the gaff. I decided that since he knew what I was, and since my penis was still a major source of sexual pleasure for me, I should remove it. My penis flopped in front of me as I released it, blood pumping into it and rendering it semi-erect.

I turned to inspect myself in the mirror and decided to freshen my lipstick, and as I finished, I was inspired to add a touch of lipstick to my nipples. I peed as fast as I could, sitting to do so of course. Then I dabbed perfume behind my ears, in the hollow of my throat and just above my penis.

I donned my nightie, and the peach silk shimmered over my body, the lace of the bodice gently scratching my sensitized nipples. The hem just covered my penis, which was becoming more engorged and which began to make a tent-pole shape in the front of my nightie.

I opened the door and walked in, stopping as soon as I saw Curt.

He had taken advantage of my absence to undress completely and he was standing by the bed facing in my direction. I was immediately struck by the size of him. And I don't mean his height or weight!

Earlier indications of his size, from the bulge in his swimming trunks, had not been misleading. His penis was standing fully erect, its purple head bobbing in time with his pulse. He was far bigger than I; probably at least nine inches long and correspondingly thick. It was a good thing that Sally had practiced me with the vibrator, and even so I knew that this was going to hurt.

Even as that thought entered my mind I knew that I didn't care. I wanted him, and I wanted him to want me. It was evident that he did and the sight of my own modest prick rising to its full size under my silk nightgown seemed only to turn him on the more.

"Michelle, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen" he said, his breath seeming to catch in his throat, his voice husky with desire.

I crossed to him and did a spontaneous little curtsey.

"Why thank you, honey" I replied before standing on tiptoes to kiss him on the lips. Just as I did so, I felt the tip of his penis touch the silk covered tip of mine, and the sensation almost caused me to cum right then and there.

Our embrace was long and passionate, as I clung to him as closely as I could, reveling in the feeling of being his girl.

He picked me up as I held my arms around his neck and he deposited me on my back on the bed, with him lying partly atop and partly beside me. We kissed frantically as his hands roamed my body. I felt him squeeze my breasts and a moan involuntarily escaped my lips as I squirmed with pleasure. His hand moved lower, caressing my stomach through the silk of my gown. Then he reached my penis. Without pause, he took it in his hand, lifting the hem of my gown in order to do so. He squeezed gently and more moans were torn from my throat.

Curt released me and knelt beside me, so that his knees were by my shoulders. I turned my head to look at him and saw his immense penis just inches from my mouth. I felt my mouth go dry and then, as I licked my lips, I felt it fill with saliva. I knew what I had to do, and what my man needed for me to do.

Rolling onto my right side, I leaned over while raising my head. I reached out with my mouth and gently kissed the end of his penis, while looking up at him to judge his reaction. He lifted his head towards the ceiling and let out a huge sigh. Reassured by this reaction I scrambled to lie before him, on all fours, with my head in his lap.

I opened my lips, forming as perfect an 'O' as I could with my freshly lipsticked mouth. I took him slowly into my mouth, marveling at the warm, velvety feeling of his cock as I surrounded it with my lips. Sucking slowly, I moved my head back and forth, taking as much of him inside as I could. He was huge, and I couldn't manage more than about half of his length' the head filling my mouth and hitting my palate at the rear. I remembered that some girls developed a technique known as deep throat, which meant overcoming my gag reflex, but I wasn't going to try that yet.

I reached out and grasped the root of his penis with one red- nailed hand while I maintained a steady back and forth with my mouth. Then I pulled slowly back, keeping my lips closed tightly as I let his penis come free from my mouth. I stopped my motion with it just a fraction of an inch in front of me and I stuck out the tip of my tongue and licked it, as if it were some wonderful ice cream cone.

I knew that I was doing the right thing, even though on one level my mind was telling me that I was acting like some terrible pervert. Sally had trained me well, and I knew that from this day forward there could be no turning back. I was learning what being a girl truly meant. I was a sex object; my identity now revolved around my ability to attract lovers through my femininity. It mattered not whether my lovers were other girls or were men like Curt. Being desired was its own reward! And I was proving to myself that I could make a healthy, attractive man want me, possess me, and take me. My surrender to him was in truth my triumph over my upbringing and the social conditioning which had made me believe that being male was the best thing in the world. For me, at least, being feminine was far more rewarding.

"Oh God, Michelle!" Curt moaned.

"I have got to have you now!"

So saying he took hold of me and turned me around so that, while still on all fours, my butt was facing towards him. I insisted that he use some of the KY that Sally had told me about before he began to fuck me with that enormous tool of his. I watched over my shoulder as he slavered jelly onto his throbbing penis. Fear mingled with desire as I awaited his entry into my rectum.

"Be gentle, darling" I said, and he grunted in acknowledgment as he positioned himself behind me.

I felt the firm, insistent pressure of his cock against the rosebud of my sphincter. The muscle ring parted and I felt him begin to enter me. The sensation was both familiar and novel, feeling like the vibrator, but more alive and of course so much larger. He moved slowly, allowing the walls of my bowel to adjust, taking him in all the way. I could tell when he had reached the level of my prostate because an incredible sweet delight flashed through my body, wiping away the slight discomfort which his bulk was causing.

Once he was all the way in, and I could feel his body up tight to mine, he became to move back, slowly and slowly. I concentrated on remaining relaxed, fearing injury if I tensed too much. He pushed back in again, and once more pleasure flooded my senses as his penis pressed against my prostate.

After the second penetration, he began to move faster and I felt my hips begin to move in response to his thrusts, my body seeking to let him in deeper with each stroke. Passion was ripped from my throat as I moaned and called out to him to fuck me, to fuck me and to never stop fucking me.

He called out my name repeatedly as he plunged into me and pulled back, only to plunge again with increasing ferocity. Sweat was coursing over my body and I knew from the sounds he emitted that he was as far gone in lust as was I.

His strokes became more urgent, and more rapid. My own penis felt harder than I had ever known it and just then I felt him reach around to take it in one of his hands. He began to pump me in time to his thrusts into my willing backside.

We came at the same moment. I swear that I could feel him come inside me, in great fountaining spasms, while my own cock erupted, spraying jism all over the bed cover.

He continued to pump away inside of me for several strokes while screaming my name. Then he collapsed on top of me and my knees and elbows gave way under his weight. I lay flat on the bed, with Curt draped atop me and his deflating penis still buried within me.I felt him lick the sweat from my neck and I had an overwhelming need to hold him in my arms, to cuddle with him and confirm to him my utter surrender. I stirred beneath him, but he was too heavy for me to move. Fortunately he felt my movement and he raised himself slightly, pulling free from my rear, before rolling to one side. I turned where I lay and nestled in his arms, burying my face in the hairs on his chest.

His arms enfolded me and we lay still for I do not know how long. I felt him relax and soon he was snoring gently. I smiled to myself as I held him close, and let myself drift off.

We were woken by Sally's entrance into the room. Perhaps I should have been embarrassed. I was her boyfriend and here I was, smooth-skinned body wearing makeup and a pretty peach silk nightgown, lying in the arms of my male lover. But of course I was exactly where she had wanted me to be, doing exactly what she had planned for me.

That was my first but far from my last session of love-making with Curt.

The rest of the summer saw us fall into a wonderful routine. Curt and Joe ceased being 'the outside help'. They still worked on the grounds five days a week, but they also stayed at the house all the rest of the time.

Sally had my old room refurnished so that it truly did mirror hers. I now had a very feminine room of my own, which I shared most nights with Curt. We spent many hours exploring and deepening our sexual desires for each other, while Joe and Sally did the same across the hall.

There were still nights when Sally and I would be lovers, and sometimes one or other of the boys would join us in bed. The Jansen's seemed to take it all in stride and my position as Michelle was accepted without a murmur.

I think I knew long before the end of the summer that I was never returning to 'Michael'. Sally returned to school in the fall, but I remained at home, working full-time as a maid while living with Curt. Sally's parents had announced their intention to stay in Europe, and the house was now entirely Sally's. My room became mine permanently and Curt moved in to live as my husband.

I continued to take hormones but neither Curt nor Sally wanted me to have an operation. Nor did Sally want me to lose my ability to have erections, so we experimented with the level of hormones that would best allow me to develop my femininity while preserving some vestige of my original male identity. Curt seemed happy enough, and I grew to accept that perhaps he had always been gay. I did not consider myself to be his gay lover; as far as I was concerned, I had become his girl, but I had been freed from my earlier narrow preconceptions of sexuality so labels hardly mattered any more. It was sufficient that we loved and desired each other. My love for and obedience to Sally remained a central and defining part of my being, and with both of them in my life, I was happy and content.

Life was to contain more revelations and surprises for me as well as new pleasures, but perhaps those matters can be told another time. What do you think?

(the end)