Date: Wed, 4 Feb 2009 12:37:50 -0800
From: simonne danielle <simonnedanielle1204@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Dream"  TG/tv

It was a brilliant Plan!  It was a brilliantly conceived Plan to manipulate
my young and naïve Bride in the most devious yet subtle manner!  But, in
order for the Plan to succeed, Sally had to be convinced it was all HER
idea!  All I had to do to put my Plan into action was tell her about the
'Dream' I had last night!  This was gonna be a cinch!  Right?

"Dream"

By: Simonne Danielle

Copyrigh 2008

All rights reserved

Simonnedanielle1204@hotmail.com



"It's just so bizarre, Theresa!  At first I thought I hadn't heard him
correctly.  I swear, I'm at a complete loss!  I just don't understand all
this!  I could really use your help!"

"You mean to tell me, Sally, like out of nowhere, he just blurted it out
... Told you about this Dream he had?"

"Like he was telling me the time of day, Theresa!  Like it was the most
normal thing in the world!  I'm really trying to understand all this!  Oh
dear, what should I do?"

- ~ - ~

Looking back, it really was all my fault that Sally, my new Bride, was so
distraught.  After two months of marriage I had finally succumbed to the
temptation.  The temptation to play dress-up in my wife's clothes.  The
irresistible temptation to adorn myself in her silky, satiny, lacy clothes.
The same way I had succumbed to the temptation to play dress-up in my
mother's and my twin sister's clothes from the time I was twelve years old.

It was at that tender age when I first experienced the utter satisfaction
and joy ... The Nirvana ... whenever silk and satin and lace caressed my
budding pubescent body.  And I continued to secretly enjoy that utter
satisfaction whenever I had the opportunity ... Until I finished college
and married Sally.

Not that I had sworn off playing dress-up when we married.  Nothing that
radical!  I just didn't have the guts ... Just didn't want to take the risk
of getting caught ... Getting caught with my panties down ... So to speak.
It took two whole months for my will to crumble.  And, Joy of Joys, our
conflicting work schedules made indulging in my secret passion so much
easier and convenient.

No doubt it was Sally's mouthwatering wardrobe which most attracted me when
we first met.  It had always been that way.  All the girls I'd dated
through high school and college wore the prettiest clothes.  And all the
time I dated them it was their skirts and lingerie and make-up and
hairstyles and pretty jewelry that attracted me more than their bubbly
personalities or even the more basic sexual prizes they willingly offered.
I was so envious of all of them!

Sally was no different.  When we met during my last year in grad school
... Her under-grad junior year ... It was love at first sight.  For my part
it was love of her poodle skirts, her frothy petticoats, her angora
sweaters, her chiffon blouses, her bobby socks!  And, despite being partial
to sexy stiletto-heeled, open-toed pumps, I even loved the adorable saddle
shoes she wore just like every other hip college co-ed.  Our love blossomed
and I fell head over heels for her ... Just like I had fallen head over
heels for her fantastically luscious wardrobe.

It was the 1950's.  That wonderful era when girls adorned themselves in
delicacies like poodle skirts and petticoats, garter belts and nylons,
angora sweaters or chiffon blouses.  And so did I!  Secretly, like I said
... Very secretly!  But still, I grew up wearing all those lovelies
... Whenever the opportunity presented itself ... Just like real girls did.

When we began dating I conjured up every excuse under the sun to invite
Sally to the fanciest restaurants, the best movie theaters, and to live
theater performances.  Fancy places like those were the sure-fire way to
provide me with, if nothing else, that voyeuristic thrill.  The thrill I
could count on every time she proudly paraded around in those full dresses
pouffed out by frothy petticoats and all the other feminine finery which
that entailed.

Like every other truly committed crossdresser, I fantasized it was me
... Wished it could be me! ... Dressed in all her glorious confections!  It
was the silky feel of her panties, slips, and nylons which excited me
whenever she'd let me run my hand under her skirt ... Even more than the
forbidden treasure hidden inside them.

God, how she loved to flaunt her stylish wardrobe!  God, how she simply
reveled in flaunting her exquisite femininity!  God, how she was so
innocently oblivious to the absolute superiority her femininity commanded!
God, how I envied her!

The dent those pricey dates put in my meager finances was well-worth the
reward every time she dressed to the Nines.  She had a wardrobe, and the
figure to go with it, which made every real girl envious and any devotee of
crossdressing simply drool.  After a mere three weeks of dating I knew I
was destined to marry her.  She felt it too.

We were married one week after I graduated.  I'd earned my post-graduate
degree in Clinical Psychology and began my career working on the
Psychiatric Ward of an exclusive private Hospital.  Sally opted to drop out
of school in favor of taking a sales job at the cosmetic counter in the
most exclusive department store in the city where my new job landed us.
All in support of my career and to help make ends meet.

My shift supervisor at work, Randy Collins, was a nice enough guy.  He and
his wife, Theresa, lived about a half mile away.  Since we worked the same
shift Randy and I drove in together.  We quickly became good friends.  It
was only natural Theresa and Sally would become friends.  Best friends,
really.

Randy and Theresa were considerably older than Sally and me.  They more or
less 'adopted' us ... Took us under their wing, so to speak.  Randy became
my mentor at work.  Theresa mentored Sally in the fine art of being a
supportive and compliant housewife.  All in all it was a delightful and
thoroughly rewarding relationship.

Sally worked days.  I worked nights.  The new guy always got the night
shift.  Not the best schedule for newlyweds, to say the least.  On the
other hand, it did provide me all the time in the world time to secretly
delve into her wardrobe ... Her wardrobe which I adored and lusted for.
Ever since I first laid eyes on her.

It only took two months for the old irresistible temptation to overwhelm
me.  Two months of laying in bed each morning and ogle as she teasingly
performed her seductive 'Strip Tease' ... In reverse!  Two months of
watching her select just the perfect bra and panty set, the perfect lace
trimmed satin slip, the perfect shade of nylons clipped so tautly to a
perfectly matched garter belt, the perfect pair of high heels, and the
perfect figure-hugging pencil skirt and blouse.  Watching her morph into
the quintessential sales professional each morning was better than our
fantastic sex life ... Well, almost better!

After two months I succumbed.  Once I gave in to that no-longer undeniable
temptation, playing dress-up became an almost daily routine.  Just like it
had when I lived at home with Mom and Sis.  Just as soon as Sally left for
work, I'd meticulously prepare myself for a day of pampering.  Of
luxuriating in silks and satins and chiffons, and nylon stockings, and high
heels, and jewelry, and the countless samples of free make-up she brought
home, and ... Delight, Delight ... My choice of any one of the half dozen
wigs perched so temptingly on head stands in her closet and simply
screaming out my name!

Now that was an option ... An added bonus ... Which had never been
available to me!  Mom and Sis never wore wigs.  I'd always had to be
content with the incongruous image of myself dressed in oodles of feminine
finery ... Topped off by my crew-cut!

I always began with a perfumed bubble bath.  I needlessly ran a razor over
my hairless body.  I never had any body hair to speak of ...  Okay, maybe a
little fine peach fuzz here and there ... How fortunate for me I took after
my twin sister in that respect!  I simply reveled in the purely feminine,
though in my case mostly unnecessary gesture, of shaving my legs,
underarms, and all those tender places women get to shave.  I had to laugh
to myself each time Sally told me how cute I looked with no body hair.  She
didn't care much for the hairy guys she'd dated in the past.  Thought it
was icky, she said.

My routine was always the same.  Bathe, lotion, dust myself with flowery
body talc.  Select a wickedly pretty bra and panty set, garter belt and
nylons, high-heeled marabou trimmed mules and a silky peignoir.  Just to be
comfy until I made up my mind which outfit I wanted to wear.  At Sally's
vanity I'd put on my face like I'd been applying make-up my whole life.
Well, I had been!  Hadn't I?

During this entire ritual the excitement between my legs was rampant.  That
was one thing which hadn't changed since I was twelve years old!  And, it
had become my primary motivation for playing dress-up!

The only decision I had to make each day was ... Did I want to be the
'Newlywed Housewife' wearing a short-sleeved, full-skirted, tightly belted,
pouffed-out polished cotton shirtwaist dress; or the 'Saucy College Co-Ed'
sporting a poodle skirt, angora sweater, bobby socks, and saddle shoes; or
the 'Salesgirl' looking oh-so professional in a tantalizingly tight pencil
skirt, made all the more tantalizing by the bas-relief of my garter tabs
underneath ... Like Sally wore to work each day ... Well, you get the idea.

There was one other decision to make.  Was I going to be a blond, a
redhead, or a brunette?  I certainly had an ample selection of wigs to
choose from.  Didn't I?  And, Sally thought it was so sexy to be able to
change her hair color and style at will.  I was no different!

Most days I opted for one of Sally's full skirts or dresses so I could
savor the sensation of my always excited man-muscle bouncing erotically
inside a pair of her full cut, lace trimmed nylon panties.  Or, if I was
feeling really wicked, a pair of her stunningly feminine, pure silk French
tap panties.  That sensation was enhanced a thousand-fold by multiple
layers of silk and satin ... a half-slip and camisole or a delicious
full-slip trimmed with oodles of lace at the bodice and hem, or knee-length
pettipants hemmed with three inches of lace ... Or maybe all of the above.
And of course the obligatory horsehair petti over a triple-tiered chiffon
one.

The exquisite feeling of being literally encased in that much feminine
finery was, in a word ... Indescribable!  My legs would wobble.  My heart
rate would double.  I always felt light-headed.  Like I would surely faint
dead away!  How I managed to maintain my balance in Sally's four or five
inch stilettos is nothing short of miraculous!

I'd occupy my days doing housework, preparing meals ahead of time for the
coming days, doing our laundry, or simply lounging on the sofa reading the
popular fashion and movie magazines we subscribed to.  Just like Sally did
when she was home alone.  Sometimes I'd change outfits at mid-day as I
imagined I was getting ready to go out for an evening at a fancy restaurant
and the theater.  Just like Sally and I did before our schedules collided.

Sally had no idea what her loving husband was up to while she slaved away
hustling cosmetics to her wealthy and sophisticated clients.  But then, my
mother and sister never had a clue either.  My talent at covering my tracks
was pure genius.  After the first two months of marital bliss I realized I
had found heaven!  I was living my life-long Dream.  Well, almost!

My deepest desire was to share this part of me with Sally.  Something I had
never had the guts to do with Mom and Sis.  I needed to somehow manipulate
our relationship so she'd come to see just how much our love-life could be
enhanced if she'd simply share her skirts with her husband.  But, I needed
to manipulate things in such a subtle way that Sally would believe, as they
say in legal terms, 'Beyond a Reasonable Doubt', it had been all HER idea!

I hated living the lie.  I hated deceiving her.  If I could only find some
way!

I became increasingly convinced Sally would love to be part of this
closeted life of mine.  After all, she thought I looked cute with no body
hair.  Didn't she?  She even talked to me about all the new cosmetics in
her product line and made such a big deal showing me the samples she
brought home.  She'd even explain in glorious minute detail the purpose of
each product and how each was applied.  Didn't she?  Why, she even
patiently taught me the painstaking process of washing and styling her
wigs!  And, at every turn, she teased me ...  Flaunted her femininity at me
... Almost dared me, it seemed, to share the girly existence she so
enjoyed.  Didn't she?

All I had to do was come up with some palatable way to break it to her
gently.  To break it to her in some way which would sound like my obsession
was the most normal thing in the world.  In some way which wouldn't give
her a heart attack.  In some way that she'd believe it was all HER idea!
After all, how could she ever be upset by an 'Idea' she had come up with in
the first place?

By the time Sally got home from work I would be long gone.  Off to work my
night shift.  Showered, scoured make-up free and dressed in my Hospital
scrubs.  All her delicates laundered and laid to rest in their proper
places.  My vast experience had taught me to be meticulous in removing all
traces of make-up and to replace lingerie and other delicates just as I had
found them.  No hint there'd been another 'Girl' in our home the entire ten
hours or so she was gone each day.

Luckily I was always home to watch her getting ready for work.  And that
little show she put on for me really got my juices flowing!  I couldn't
wait to mimic her ... To be her! ... Just as soon as she was gone!

Other than those few precious minutes, we were like ships passing in the
night.  Except for weekends.  We spent each weekend doing all the fun
things married couples do.  Especially newlywed couples.  I decided the
upcoming weekend would be the perfect time to put my plan into action.  I
simply couldn't go on living the rest of my life with all the lies and
deceit.

- ~ - ~

We woke up mid-morning on that particular Saturday.  There was nothing
pressing on the schedule.  A quiet, leisurely day loomed.  I had been
mulling over several possible scenarios which would allow me to casually
broach the subject with Sally.

After much agonizing internal debate I'd finally decided on what I thought
would be a non-threatening and very subtle approach.

One of the more unique aspects of our relationship, perhaps the one aspect
I was most proud of, was the equality of it all.  We were a true
partnership.  None of the 'I'm the MAN.  I RULE the roost!' nonsense which
was so prevalent during the 1950's.  We shared equally in the household
chores, shopping, and in decisions about how we'd spend our money.  We also
shared our hopes and aspirations.  We were there for each other ... No
matter what.

We even shared our dreams.  Not just our ephemeral dreams for what the
future held.  But our actual nocturnal Dreams.  Since we'd first met,
sharing our Dreams had always been one of the most intimate and titillating
and private activities we enjoyed.  Sometimes our Dreams were funny.
Sometimes sad.  Sometimes heroic.  Sometimes scary.  No matter the nature
of our Dreams, sharing them brought us closer together.  We always learned
something a bit more intimate and revealing about each other.  And lots of
times we'd actually acted out the more enjoyable, even bizarre, elements of
our Dreams.

I remember once when Sally told me she'd dreamed of a stranger breaking in
as she slept.  He had forced himself on her ... Ripped her nightclothes off
... Taken the most intimate advantage of her!  She said it was so scary!
At the same time she found it positively stimulating!  A true turn-on!

The next day I actually play-acted that exact Dream.  Cat Burglar mask and
all!  Sally had loved every 'scary' minute of it!

Then there was the time I told Sally I had dreamed about her coming home
with one of those new Hula Hoops.  In my Dream she bragged about how the
Manager of the toy department had taught her how to seductively rotate her
hips and twirl the newest rage.

She couldn't wait to show me ... To reenact my Dream!  That very day Sally
brought home a Hula Hoop!  Have you ever watched a girl ... In the 1950's
... Twirling a Hula Hoop while wearing a poodle skirt and three petticoats.
Let me tell you ... It's heart-stopping!

The day after that, while Sally was at work, I spent an hour twirling that
Hula Hoop ... While wearing the same poodle skirt and petticoats Sally had
worn!

I decided to use this most intimate aspect of our marriage to my advantage
... As a springboard to open the discussion.  If I told Sally about one of
my 'Dreams', a concocted 'Dream' to be sure, but with elements of my secret
obsession subtly and cleverly interwoven into the 'facts', it would be the
perfect way to manipulate her.  To gently and lovingly manipulate her
thoughts and feelings and desires in such a way so dressing me up in her
clothes would be HER idea!  I would weave in just enough element of truth
so she'd be absolutely convinced that reenacting this 'Dream' would be just
as tantalizing as any other time we'd indulged each others fantasies.

It would be a thoroughly devious way to manipulate her.  Some might even
call it contemptible.  In the final analysis, however, I was certain beyond
any doubt unburdening this most secret part of my life ... Getting it out
in the open ... Would bring us so much closer.  The only question was, did
I have the nerve to do it?  On the other hand, did I have the nerve to NOT
do it?

- ~ - ~

I stretched languidly in bed.  Before Sally could get up to fetch coffee
and the newspaper so we could lounge in bed a while longer, as was our
custom.  I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to me.  Her
beautiful body fit me perfectly!  Just like her beautiful wardrobe did!
The featherweight touch of her full length nightgown slinking against my
almost naked body caused my morning woody to inflame and throb even more
than usual.

She was wearing one of my favorites.  I ran my hand along the chiffon
overlay.  I could hear the staticky crackling as chiffon slithered against
satin.  I absently tickled the lace trim at the bodice with my fingers.
The pale pink color was perfect for her and just the most feminine
imaginable.  My mind wandered briefly as I reminisced how I had worn this
same gown so many times while she was at work.

I swallowed hard, took a deep breath and began nervously sputtering.

"Sally, Honey, I, err ... ahem! ... I had the strangest 'Dream' last
night!"  I whispered shyly, as she snuggled her body closer.  "It was so
strange!  I don't know if I can even bring myself to tell you about it!  I
mean ... I, ah ... Oh god! ... It was just so weird!  I can't even begin to
explain where it came from!"

"Dream?"  she murmured.  "Oooh goody!  I love it when you tell me your
Dreams!  Was it another sexy one?  Your Dreams are always so sexy.  From
what I can feel down here it must have been a real sexy one."  she said
impishly, as she groped me.  "Tell me all about it, Honey.  Every sexy
little detail."

She circled a finger around my nipple in that delightfully teasing way
which made me tingle all over.

"Well ... Yeah!  It was a sexy one, I guess.  But ... But this one was way
different than any other I've ever had.  It's almost too funny, really.
And ... a little bit, err ... embarrassing, I'm afraid.  If you really want
to know ... I'll tell you ...  But, ah, don't say I didn't warn you!"

I tried to sound reluctant.  But, in truth, I was bursting at the seams to
spill it.

Sally was driving me wild!  Cuddling against me in that unbelievably
sensuous gown.  I really had convinced myself, once I told her about my
'Dream', she'd glom onto it ... Want to reenact it ... Just as eagerly as
she had done with her Hula Hoop and when I played Cat Burglar.  There's no
way she'd be able to resist the urge to see me actually adorned in the very
gown she was wearing at this moment.  And, not only her lovely nightgown,
but some of the other goodies hanging so invitingly in her closet.  This
was gonna be a cinch!

"Don't be embarrassed, Honey.  Please!  We're married, after all!  For
heaven's sake!  We're not supposed to be embarrassed in front of each
other!  We never have!  Have we?"  she chided.  "We always share our
Dreams.  Besides, you brought up the subject.  You can't keep me in
suspense!"

She started licking my ear.  She knew she could get me to do anything just
by licking my ear.

I took the plunge.  No turning back now.

"It's crazy!  But it started, I mean ...  err ... You know, my ... uh, my
'Dream' started when ... You just got home from work ... You know ... And
... I mean ... for some strange reason ... I don't know ... You were raving
about a fabulous sale the store was having ... Um, I mean ... your Store
..."

Did I say this was gonna be a cinch?  This was not going as easily as I had
planned.  I could feel the perspiration popping out all over my forehead.

"With your usual theatrical flare, you held up two new dresses you had
bought at a ridiculously low price.  Fancy dresses.  You know, the style
you always like to wear.  Err, ... The ones with big full skirts.  The
party dresses you wear with all those ... uh ... Those petticoats.  You
were so proud of how much money you saved."

"Well gee-whiz ... I know how much you like to see me wearing pretty things
like those, Honey!  And I like to dress that way cuz it gets both of us so
excited!  What's so crazy about that?"

"That's not the crazy part, Sally.  The crazy part's that after I told you
what a smart shopper you were and how pretty they were, you said ... And I
swear, you're not gonna believe this part! ...

"You said ... 'I'm glad you like them, Darling.  'Cuz I bought this red one
for you!'

"Can you believe that!  I dreamed you actually bought a party dress ... For
me!  Like it was no big deal!  The most normal thing in the world!  If that
isn't the craziest thing, I don't know what is!  I tell you, Honey, this
was some ... uh ...  Weird 'Dream'!"

I started laughing ... Like it was no big deal.  But it was a forced laugh.
Even to my ears, I sounded like a babbling idiot!

"You dreamed I bought you a party dress!  A party dress for you to wear?
That's so strange!"

She was giggling too, but had this serene, almost motherly, look on her
face.

"Yeah!  It is!  But no more stranger than your Cat Burglar Dream!"  I
reminded her.  Just to let her know I wasn't the only one who'd had strange
Dreams.

"Anyway, you told me since I loved seeing you wearing pretty things so much
and how much fun you have dressing up for me, I should see for myself how
much fun it is to wear them too!  To experience first hand what girls
experience when they're all dressed up.  You even brought up how you'd
always noticed how much I just about drooled every time you wore dresses
like those, going all the way back to when we were in school.  And how that
got you thinking I might actually enjoy the experience.  I told you it was
a crazy Dream!"

Just a little element of truth to help convince her to want to reenact my
'Dream'!

I babbled on.

"Not only that!  You said you bought the dresses so we could go out and
kick up our heels ... As girlfriends!  Can you believe it?  You were
determined to dress me up in that pretty new dress and take me out!  Just
like you and Theresa do when Randy and I are working and you guys are
looking to relax and have a little fun!  You know how stubborn you get once
your mind is made up.  I can't even imagine you'd think I'd ever look like
one of your ... ah ... girlfriends!"

A touch of self-deprecation would get the 'sympathy' factor going.  I knew
I was blushing guiltily and could barely look her in the eye.

"Hey!"  She butted in.  "I never imagined you as a 'Cat Burglar' either!
Or, for that matter, me as your 'Victim'!  You never know about these
Dreams!"  she added innocently.

"I suppose!  Anyway, I started arguing and protesting there was no way you
were gonna get me into a dress and take me out.  But you know how you are
once a bee gets in your bonnet.  You pooh-pooh'd my protests ... Claimed
I'd look even prettier than most of your girlfriends.  Besides, you argued,
you'd already spent the money.  It was a Sale.  The dress couldn't be
returned!"  You insisted.

"In a flash you gathered an armful of your undies.  Why I didn't run out of
the house, I'll never know!  In no time at all you had me standing here in
a padded out bra, one of those garter gizmos, nylon stockings, those frilly
underpants you always wear, a slip, and a fluffy petticoat ... all in red
...

'To match your new dress!' ... was the way you put it.

"Can you believe it!  Talk about a crazy Dream!  By that time you had me
trapped.  There was nowhere to run!  I felt like the goofiest guy in the
world!"

"I could never think of you as goofy, Darling.  But the idea of having you
trapped like that does have a certain appeal."  she commented, with more
than a little wonderment in her eyes.

"You playfully slapped my hands away each time I tried to take off your
things.  You ignored my complaining and fidgeting as you slipped the dress
over my head and smoothed it 'til it hung just right.  I complained I
looked ridiculous ... A guy in a dress, for heaven's sake!  My crew cut and
bushy eyebrows made me look like some sort of, uh ... Bizarre cartoon
character!

"But you just said, in that no-nonsense way you have, 'Relax, Baby.  I'm
the professional here.  Just let me finish you off.  Besides, lots of guys
wear dresses.  Haven't you ever heard of Halloween?'

"You weren't about to leave me any wiggle room!"

"Well, that's certainly true enough!"  Sally idly responded.  "I've seen
guys wearing dresses at Halloween.  Everybody has.  Why, I even remember a
bunch of Fraternity boys all dressed up and performing a Can-Can for me and
my Sisters at our Sorority house once."  Then, as if she was fondly
reminiscing, "Actually, some of them were quite cute ... Even sexy looking.

"But, getting back to your Dream ... Just what did we do when we went out?
... As girlfriends?"

The thought of that got her giggling.

"Were you wearing make-up ... Maybe one of my wigs?  In your Dream, that
is?  I bet you looked positively adorable!"  she teased.

Her quizzical look had turned to one of thoughtfulness.  A kind of
questioning, inquisitive-little-girl look.  For a second I thought I'd gone
too far.  But I took a deep breath and pushed ahead full speed.

"Before we, uh ... went out you sat me down at your vanity and did a
make-over on me.  Real professional like.  You know, just like you do with
your clients at work!  And not just make-up.  You even gussied me up with
dangly earrings, a necklace, and bracelets.  I kept insisting I was gonna
look like a circus clown!  But you were determined!  You were convinced you
could make me look as pretty as any of your clients!  When you finished and
turned me to the mirror I started laughing.

"But you weren't.  You knew you had actually done what you set out to do!
The honey blond wig was the last straw.  I wouldn't call me adorable, or
anything like that!  But, at that point, I swear, I literally couldn't
recognize myself!"

Sally looked at me.  She looked at me in that professional way she does
with her clients.  As if she was assessing the possibilities.

"It sure sounds crazy to me!  Not crazy, crazy!  I mean, the idea of
dressing you up like that never occurred to me.  But, on the other hand, as
I look at you, you do have fine features, smooth skin, tight pores.  Yeah!
I can see you in make-up.  It's not that far-fetched.  I bet your face
would make a lovely canvas ... Just as lovely as any of the other women who
come to see me.  Maybe even lovelier!"  she declared.

She playfully poked me in the ribs for emphasis.  Oh my!  She was really
buying into this concocted 'Dream' of mine!

I tried to ignore her playfulness.  But my heart was pounding with
anticipation as I continued relating my 'Dream'.  I sat up in bed.

"We actually went to a lovely restaurant where we dined and sipped wine.
Both of us in those poufy dresses.  We made quite a sight.  Then we went to
the theater and afterwards took a leisurely walk along the marina.  You
were ecstatic cuz we'd had such a wonderful time.  We both were, actually
..."

I trailed off ... Waiting for a reaction.

Sally didn't say anything.  And unfortunately, that was where my 'Dream'
ended.  I hadn't thought any further ahead!  I guess, in the back of my
mind, I figured she would have rejected the whole concept out of hand by
now.  But, Sally hadn't gone all bonkers ...  Hadn't summarily rejected the
very idea.  She just quietly asked me what happened next.

I was forced to embellish ... To improvise ... To pile on the lies!

Thinking fast, I added, "When we got home you surprised me again when, with
yet another dramatic flourish, you unveiled two brand new matching
nightgowns you had bought ... also at the Sale ...  And insisted I sleep in
one!

"You said, 'It'll make our girls night out complete.'  And it did, too!  We
made the MOST passionate love!"

I gulped guiltily and forced myself to look her in the eyes.  I had to be
convincing.  Sally had to be convinced I really did have the 'Dream'!  Had
to be so convinced she'd want to live out the 'Dream'!

Sally folded her arms under her breasts and rubbed her chin thoughtfully as
she began lecturing like she was a professor or something.

"You know, Honey ... I remember reading about boys who like to dress as
girls.  In my psychology class.  What did they call them? ...

"Trans something ...

"Transvestites!  That's it!

"It always struck me as kind of odd.  A cute kind of odd.  But a basically
harmless behavior, if I remember right."

Sally always liked to bring up subjects she had studied in college.  I
guess to show she had learned something in school.  Even though she hadn't
graduated.  Sort of a compensation kind of thing.

I laughed.  "Well, I'm no Transvestite!  That's for sure!"  I protested - -
a little too defensively.

'Where was she going with this?'

"Are you sure?  I also remember reading that Dreams, at least some Dreams,
are really a sign of the Dreamer's subconscious desires."  she said
teasingly.  "Maybe you are one of those.  I know I never thought of myself
as the Victim of a rapist.  But I did Dream it.  Didn't I?  And you did
make it happen.  Didn't you?"

'Where on earth did she come up with that!'  I thought.  'How on earth
could she interpret my 'Dream' and conclude I was a Transvestite?'

"Don't be silly!"  I argued, now in full Psychiatric Social Worker mode.
"First of all, Transvestites dress in female clothing strictly for the
sexual thrill they get when they do it.  I don't think I got any sort of
sexual thrill from wearing that dress and stuff!  In my 'Dream', that is!"
I lied.

"Oh really?"  She argued back.  "Didn't you say we made passionate love?
'The MOST passionate love', I think is how you put it.  Sounds like a
sexual thrill to me!  Maybe my sexy new Hubby is a subconscious
Transvestite."

She was giggling even more.  Enjoying teasing me about my 'concocted', and
now very embarrassing 'Dream'.

"I don't think that's what I am, Sally.  I really don't.  It was just a
crazy 'Dream'.  Like I said.  I sure enough didn't get all sexually excited
from wearing your things!  Why I'm no more a Transvestite than you were a
rape Victim!"

"Don't knock it, Honey!  I sure enjoyed our little bit of play-acting that
night!  Maybe you'd enjoy play-acting this Dream too!  What's good for the
Goose is good for the Gander.  We've done stuff like that before.  I'll bet
you anything you'll get just as turned on as I did that night!"  she said
emphatically.

She threw back the bed covers and snuggled even closer to me.  She wafted
the billowing skirt of her nightgown across my body and began caressing me
with the silky fabric.  She was softly humming a nameless tune.  It was all
I could do to keep from exploding in my boxer shorts.

After a half a minute she declared, "Well!  Lookie here!  I guess that
proves it, sure enough!"  she exclaimed with absolute conviction.

"Proves what?"  I squealed.

"Proves my nitie gets you all turned on!  Look at this monster bulging
inside your boxers!  Goodness!  I hate to think what would happen if I got
you into some of my really sexy lingerie and stuff!  I rest my case!"

She was really enjoying my embarrassing discomfort.

"That's not fair!"  I protested.  "Of course I'm hard down there!  I
haven't even had my morning pee yet!  I always wake up hard!  And it's your
gorgeous body that's making me hard!  Not your nightgown!  I always get
hard when you cuddle up against me the way you're doing now!"

"Okay, Smartypants!  Then let's try it another way!"  she insisted.

"Try what another way?"

"Let's try to find out if you get all excited by actually wearing a girly
nitie!  Without your morning woody!  Get your butt out of bed and do your
morning pee!  Then come back in here.  I'll have a little surprise waiting.
Call it an experiment if you want."

I knew better than to argue!  Heck, I didn't want to argue!  Not at this
critical point.  I went to the john and did my thing.  As excited as I was
at the prospect which lay ahead I even remembered to leave the toilet seat
down.  She's always on my case about that!

When I returned to our bedroom she was standing at her closet, holding the
billowing lavender full length twin to the pale pink gown she was wearing.

"Take off those boxers and hold your arms up!"

It was not a request.

My mind was reeling!  Sally was taking over my Dream!  With as much
trepidation as I'd ever felt, I slipped off my boxers and held my arms up
high.  She slid the silky confection over my head and slithered it down the
full length of my body.

She was grinning from ear to ear!  There was no mistaking the fully-aroused
man-muscle tenting the voluminous yards of satin and chiffon floating to
the floor.

"Well, well, well!  What do we have here?"

Her sarcastic question was rhetorical.  It didn't require any answer.

"Not only are you hard as a rock down here," she murmured, as she stroked
me with the satiny fabric, "you were already half-hard the second you saw
me holding out this pretty nitie for you!"

Her epiphany was palpable.

"Tell you what I think.  I think there's no doubt my Hubby is a
Transvestite!  There's certainly no doubt he finds wearing girly goodies
exciting!  Not just exciting but, exciting in a decidedly sexual way!  That
is how you defined a Transvestite, isn't it, Honey?"

She was grinning from ear to ear and ... Did I see a glimmer of mischief in
her eyes?

My goodness!

As supportive and compliant as she was learning to be under the tutelage of
her best friend, Theresa, Sally also had a stubborn streak.  She could be
quite rebellious, as well.

She even quit college and married me against her parents' strenuous
objections as an act of rebellion.

Once she made up her mind nothing or no one was gonna change it.  Her way
was always the only way!  Also, when she got into one of her stubborn
modes, she rarely considered any long-term consequences.  This was one of
those times.

So here I stood.  My first time ever with someone else looking on.  Draped
in the most yummy confection of satin and chiffon.  With my new Bride
standing next to me.  Thoroughly convinced that her husband ...  The
college graduate Psychiatric Social Worker ... The true brains of the
family ... Was a Transvestite!

And, to put an exclamation point on the entire scenario, she seemed to be
thoroughly enjoying the revelation!  My game-plan ... My 'clever' and
'sophisticated' and 'devious' manipulation ... had worked to perfection!
Hadn't it?  Sally had swallowed my manipulative plan ... Hook, Line, and
Sinker!

Sally interrupted my reverie.

"You really ought to put on a pair of panties ... We do refer to them as
Panties, you know ... Not Underpants!  You're poking out obscenely!"  she
chided, as she grasped my member with even more pressure.

"Sally," I asked hesitantly, "Do you really think I'm a Tranny?  I mean
Transvestite."

"Tranny!?  ... Tranny!?  Is that the affectionate little nick-name you
psychiatric types call them?  Trannies?  Have you been reading up on the
subject?  Maybe you've had Dreams like this before."  she teasingly
accused.

She was kneeling at my feet.  Holding open a pair of frilly nylon lavender
panties.

"No!  No!  Not at all!  Never!  I swear!"  I protested weakly.

After all, how could I have had a 'Dream' like this before?  I'd only just
made it up!  But still, I readily stepped into the silky panties and let
her settle them into place.

"Maybe not."  she continued.  "I mean maybe you haven't had any Dreams like
this before last night.  But there's no doubt how excited you are!  Even
after we made love last night.  You're never this hard after your morning
pee.  And we've never made love in the morning after making love the night
before.  You always tell me how much I wear you out.  Let's find out just
how passionate wearing this nitie has made you, shall we?"

She flung me onto our bed like I was a rag doll.  Then flung herself on top
of me.  We were engulfed in yards and yards of the satin and chiffon which
was the total sum of our two gowns and the intoxicating scent of the
perfume which infused all her lingerie.

And we did make the MOST passionate love.  It seemed to last for hours.  I
penetrated her more ferociously and passionately than I ever had.  We
licked and suckled each other to multiple highs unlike any we'd ever had.
In between the earth-shattering highs, while I recovered, I flicked her
love button with my fingers and my tongue until she couldn't take any more.

She reciprocated!  When she wasn't licking and suckling she was caressing
my man-muscle with my satin gown.  Or was it her gown?  I didn't care.  I
was too busy exploding for the fourth time!

- ~ - ~

It was well past noon when our marathon sex-fest finally slowed to tender
cuddling and caressing.

Sally sighed in that tell-tale way she has which signifies she's utterly
satisfied.

"Oh my god!  That was fantastic!  I've never seen you so turned on!  I've
never been so turned on!  I'm not gonna be able to walk for a week!  Oh,
Honey, I absolutely adore you!"

She was gasping for breath.  Our gowns were drenched with our combined love
secretions and perspiration.

We tumbled out of bed, hung our nightgowns on the back of the bathroom
door, and showered ... Together ... For the first time.  As Sally slathered
me with sweet smelling soap ... Her "girly scented soap", she called it
... She kept up a barrage of teasing accusations ...

"My little Tranny loves his new nitie!"

"Tranny-Boy loves to smell all sweet and girly!"

"Does Tranny-Boy want to wear one of Wifey's girly party dresses?"

"I think I'll call you Tranny-Sammy from now on!  Oooh!  I like the sound
of that!  Don't you?"

She was teasing me in a loving way and I could tell she found her little
experiment a complete success.  She had convinced herself my 'Dream' proved
I was a Transvestite.  Not only that!  She had convinced herself that she,
and she alone, had discovered the revealing truth that wearing her nitie
was responsible for her transvestite husband's sexually excited condition!
I couldn't have written a better script!  Could I?

As for me, I was envisioning the coming nights when she'd insist I always
wear one of her nightgowns ... Maybe even more!  And ... I was feeling as
guilty as could be!  Guilty for having perpetrated the devious manipulation
in the first place!  And even more guilty because ... Well ... Because I
always felt guilty in the aftermath of my dress-up escapades.

Sally was still in the bathroom fussing with her hair.  I had thrown on a
pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt.

"Hey!"  she called out as she came into the bedroom, running a brush
through her shoulder-length auburn hair.  She was naked as a Jay-Bird.  Not
even a towel wrapped around her!

"Doesn't my Tranny-Sammy want to play anymore?  I thought my little
Transvestite might want to see how he'd look all made up.  You know, a wig,
jewelry, pretty lingerie, and that special party dress ... Like in your
Dream!  A pair of sky-high heels? ...Hmmm!"

"You still wanna dress me up, Honey?  You still wanna dress me up like a
girl?  Like in my 'Dream'?"  I asked, incredulously.  "Don't be silly!  You
wouldn't dare try anything so weird ... So bizarre!"

There!  I'd done it!  I'd used the 'Dare' word!  The one word in the
English language I knew she'd be unable to ignore!  She'd never been able
to resist a 'Dare'!  Why there was that time I dared her to ...

She interrupted ...

"Of course I do, Silly!  Though I have to admit this is all so new.  A
little shocking, actually.  A little naughty.  But, no more naughty than me
playing Victim and you playing Cat Burglar.  Anyway, now you've gone and
got me all curious.

"I have an idea!  Let's see how pretty I can make you!  Let's just say
Halloween's come a few months early this year!"

She rambled on ...

"Who knows?  Maybe, if I can make you pretty enough ... Like some of those
Frat boys were ... We really will wind up going out for dinner and drinks
... Make your Dream come true ... Really come true!  Like you made mine
come true!

"After all, you did say, in your Dream, I wanted you to experience what all
girls experience when they wear pretty dresses ... And everything that goes
with them.  Didn't you?"

Sally was pressing her naked body against mine, breathing hotly on my neck,
and licking my ear in that way which made me putty in her hands.

I was astounded.  Never in my wildest Dreams did I ever think something
like this would happen.  Never in my wildest Dreams did I ever consider
venturing outside the house ... Like she was suggesting ... Dressed like a
girl!  Now my Bride ... My naïve, compliant, and so easily manipulated
Bride had come up with her own idea!  She was challenging me to live the
'Dream' ... The lying, deceitful, reprehensible 'Dream' I had conjured up
just so I could con her into sharing my embarrassing secret ... My
home-alone fetish!

She stood before me, naked, except for the hairbrush in her hand.  My
member hung between my legs, limp and completely sated.  Even the sight of
her gorgeous naked body wasn't enough to get a rise out of me!

"C'mon, Honey!  It'll be fun!"  whimpering and cajoling like only she can
do.  "We'll find out together just how much of a Transvestite I married!
Strip!"

She was on a mission.  Her stubborn streak was clearly taking charge.

She strode over to her dresser and began flinging item after item of her
magnificent lingerie onto the bed.  It seemed a haphazard gesture but I
knew her well enough to know every item she selected was calculated.  The
only difference ... This time she was selecting two of everything!

- ~ - ~

Giggling like a kid in a candy store, she slipped a mint green, lace
trimmed satin bra up my arms and secured the front closure.  Sally prefers
front closure bras.  Gives her a smoother look in back when she wears those
sheer chiffon blouses and tight angora sweaters, she says.

"God!  I've never even helped another GIRL put on a bra!  Now, here I am
helping a BOY into one!  This is fun!"

Then she groaned in mock disappointment as she playfully squeezed the
deflated cups.

"Oh-Oh!  We'll have to find something to fill you out, Honey."

Switching gears effortlessly, she slipped into her professional Salesgirl
persona without even pausing to take a breath.

"Speaking of filling you out, Sweetie!"  she began lecturing as she fussed
with the slides on the straps.  "Did you know the Store just got in these
new breast enhancers? ... Made from some new stuff called Foam Rubber.  You
know, we girls have been using padding forever!  But these ... They're
actually molded into the shape of very realistic looking breasts
... Nipples and all!  Another miracle of modern science!  Better living
through chemistry!  All the girls are buying them ... To achieve the
voluptuous bosom every girl craves, if you know what I mean.

"Of course you don't know what I'm talking about!  How could you know
something as intimate as that?  We'll just have to use some of my silk
scarves for the time being.  They'll feel sooo smooth against your nippies!
Don't want anything to irritate your sensitive skin!"

Sally stuffed two silky scarves inside each cup and skillfully molded them
until she was satisfied.

"Okay for now, I guess.  If you would've had your Dream yesterday, I
could've brought home a pair.  Maybe, if you're a good little Tranny, I'll
pick you up a pair on Monday," she cooed.

I was used to stuffing my bras with athletic socks.  Her silk scarves felt
positively delightful.

I just stood there speechless.  Now she wants to buy me a pair of falsies!
This was way more than I'd anticipated!  Way more than I'd bargained for.
Wasn't it?

"Lucky you!  Nice and smooth all over!  None of that icky boy hair!"  she
babbled.

I was preoccupied with my new padding.

When she held out the matching panties for me to step into it was all I
could do to keep my member from flaring up.  Don't ask me how, but I
managed, as she settled them into place.

She dug deep into the bottom of one of her drawers and pulled out an eight
inch wide, wasp-waisted, elasticized garter belt.  I'd seen it before but
never tried it on.  It was way too small.  No way it'd ever fit me.

Apparently that thought never entered her mind.  Without skipping a beat
Sally expertly wrapped it around my middle and observed,

"Until now I never gave much thought to how wide your hips are!  You really
are your sister's twin!  We're pretty much the same size but this will
cinch in your tummy enough to give you an even more defined waist."

The lacey foundation with its beige floral appliqués looked flimsy enough.
In truth, it could have been constructed out of steel!  In fact, it had
boning every couple of inches around the entire circumference to keep it
from rolling.  Sally had to really struggle to close all the hooks.  I
thought she'd surely break a fingernail or two!  I had to really suck in my
gut!

I had been wearing lightweight girdles, waist cinchers, and all-in-one
corsets forever.  My mother had an extraordinary collection of foundation
garments, some of which dated back to the 1800's.  I loved wearing them.
They gave me the shape I craved and made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

This time was different ... Way more constricting than anything I'd worn
before!  This time Sally's tiny cincher forced me to take short breaths.  I
was getting a light-headed feeling I'd never experienced before.  But it
did nip in my twenty-four inch waist by a good three inches.  My hips were
flaring out like they'd never flared out before!

"Sexy!  Very sexy!"  she opined.  "Now tuck those garters underneath your
panties while I fetch you a pair of nylons."  she instructed ... Always so
eager to flaunt her expertise in matters such as this.

She handed me a pair of nylons ... Black, opera-length, full-fashioned, she
called them ... I knew that.

"Think you can manage these without running them, my Darling Tranny Hubby?"
she dared me.

"Well," I answered breathlessly, as I tried to adjust to all the new
constricting feelings, "I've sure watched you put on stockings enough
times, haven't I?  You roll them up into little donuts ... like this,
right?"

"Right!  Exactly!  You have been paying attention!  I'm impressed!  Don't
snag them!  Try to keep the seams straight.  I'll help if you want.  I
think you'll love how your legs look and feel.  God!  I'm actually jealous
of you sometimes!  I have to shave stubble off my legs and underarms every
other day.  You have nothing to shave!  Not even a beard!  You're so
lucky!"

Now there was an interesting twist.  My wife's jealous because she has to
shave and I don't!  In any event, I managed to fake a clumsy effort to
slither and stretch the fifteen denier silky nylons up to within an inch of
the hem of my panties without running them.  And, even more clumsily, I
faked my effort to secure the garter tabs.  I even allowed the stretched
out elastic garter to 'carelessly' slip from my fingers and snap back with
a loud POP!  Just for effect, of course!  I really didn't want her to think
for even a second I'd had any experience undertaking this most feminine
task.

I guess I faked it pretty well because her only comment was, "Don't worry,
Honey, you'll get the hang of it!"

She did turn me around to fuss with the seams and adjust the tautness of
the garters before declaring them, "Perfectly lovely!  You have gorgeous
legs!"

She helped me into a midnight black satin slip ... The one trimmed with
delicate scalloped Chantilly lace at the bodice and hem.

"God!  We really are them same size!"  she exclaimed.  "I don't even have
to adjust the shoulder straps!  It's such a perfect fit!

"You'll definitely be wearing the full dress you dreamed about, Honey.
Petticoat and all!  There's no way you can get away with a tight skirt.
Not with your manly ding-a-ling ... Even when it's soft!"

She giggled at her little joke and gently patted the juncture where my
thighs joined my abdomen.  I giggled along with her.

"Besides I know how much you enjoy it when I wear a full skirt and
petticoats.  I want you to experience the same feelings I do!  And, in your
Dream, that was the style you wore?  Right?"

"Err ... Right ... I guess."  I replied softly.

The waist cincher was really making me dizzy!

I stepped into her very stiff and very full multi-layered black horsehair
petticoat and snugged it to my cinched-in waist.  It rustled in the most
delightful manner!  I'd always believed the sibilant rustle of a petticoat
was one of the most quintessential feminine experiences.

"This petticoat feels so coarse.  Even scratchy," I complained, as I ran my
hands over the billowing underskirt.

Of course I knew it felt scratchy!  I'd worn it enough times.  It was
another subtle manipulation I improvised to convince Sally I truly was
innocent when it came to all things feminine.

"And that, my sexy little Tranny Hubby, is why we wear a soft and silky
slip underneath!"  she lectured in the patented exasperated tone of voice
she used whenever she had to explain something so exclusively feminine to
her husband.

"All you feel is the slinky silkiness of your slip slithering against your
nylons.  Right?  We wear a slip to protect us against the rough fabric of a
net petti irritating our legs.  And besides, without a slip, a petticoat
like this could even put a run in our nylons!"

She fluffed and rustled my petticoat to demonstrate how my slip protected
my stockings and, at the same time, felt so sensuous.  I was in heaven!

"Wow!"  I whispered in mock surprise.  "It does feel good, Honey!"

"I know."  she cooed.  "Did you wear a pair of my really high heels, Sammy?
I mean, in your Dream, that is?  When we went to dinner?  You know how much
I love wearing sky-high heels when you take me out."

"Well ... I wasn't wearing my high-top Keds!  That's for sure!"  I joked
back at her.  "But I don't remember how high my heels were ... In my
'Dream', I mean."

'Oh god!  I called them My Heels!  What a dope!  I hope she didn't catch
that stupid Freudian slip!'

I guess she didn't.  She was too preoccupied.

"Okay then.  Let's give you the full experience!"

She retrieved a pair of open-toe pumps from the shoe rack on the back of
her closet door.

"These will go nicely with your dress.  It won't be a red dress ... like in
your Dream ... But I think they'll do for the purpose of our little
play-acting.  These are only five inch heels.  You should be able to manage
in them.  Let's just see how much of a natural Tranny you really are!"

It was a challenging tone she used.  A dare.  A feminine dare.  The type of
dare girls use to assert their feminine superiority over inferior boys.

In one hand she held her emerald green cocktail dress.  In the other she
dangled the satin covered pumps which she'd had dyed to match the dress.

"I hope these pumps don't pinch you too much.  I'm still breaking them in."

I sat on her silk brocade vanity bench and took one shoe from her.  I
scrunched my petticoat and slip up to my stocking tops and crossed one leg
over the other ... My ankle resting on my knee.  The way men cross their
legs.  Crossing my legs at the knees would've been a dead giveaway.

The shoe slipped onto my foot as smooth as silk.  A perfect fit!  Of course
I already knew they'd fit!  I'd worn them more times than Sally had.  When
I switched legs in the same manner, Sally roundly chastised me.

"For crying out loud, Sammy!  What are you thinking?  Women cross their
legs at their knees, you silly oaf!  The way you're sitting there is so
gross!  So unladylike!  You've seen me slip into my shoes a million times!
The least you could do is get into the spirit of all this and put them on
properly!

"Besides, if you go and cross your legs like that when we're out everyone
will know what you are!  You wouldn't want anyone to catch on you're a man
in a dress!  Would you?  You could be arrested, for heaven's sake!  Not
only that ... You'll give everyone a free show ... A free peek up your
dress!  Now ... Start acting like a lady!  Do it right!  Or we'll both be
in trouble!"

'When we're out!'

'Get arrested!'

'Give everyone a free peek!'

'Act like a lady!'

I was starting to panic!

Like she was expecting nothing less ... Sally was asking ... No, demanding
... I act all girly!  She really was intent on the two of us going out
... As girlfriends!  That wasn't what I signed up for.  All I really wanted
in the first place was to dress up at home ... With Sally! ... Instead of
alone!  To enjoy the silky feel of her clothes caressing my body and then
make mad, passionate love!  With her!  Not the solitary 'love-making' I was
accustomed to each time I'd played dress-up in the past!

"Sorry, Sally.  I didn't realize I was doing it wrong!"  I lied.

I meekly crossed my legs at the knees in the appropriate feminine manner
she'd demanded and slipped into the other pump.  The sibilant swish of
nylon against nylon was the only sound to be heard.  Sally stared silently
in utter disbelief at my totally feminine gesture.

"Better!  Much better!"  she finally complimented.  "And sooo girly!"  she
teased.  "Act like that when we're out and we'll be fine.  And now! ... "
she squealed with dramatic emphasis ...


"Ta-Da!  Your dress!  Your pretty party dress!  The dress in your Dream!
C'mon over here and hold up your arms, Tranny-Sammy!"

Without a moments hesitation I stood and gracefully walked ... Swayed?
... the fifteen feet across the room and held my arms high over my head.  I
towered over her in my pencil-thin stiletto heels ... What with her being
barefoot and naked and all.

"Holy cow!"  she screeched.  "You're walking in those heels like you've
been walking in them your whole life!  It took me ages to master walking in
high heels!  You're a natural!"

If truth be known, it had also taken me ages to master walking in my
mother's and sister's sky-high heels!  But, I'd been so eager to get into
her dress I'd forgotten to fake my 'inexperience'.  I'd worn heels so often
my natural ability to walk in them had reared its ugly head involuntarily!
Sally was sure to detect that little faux pas!  Wasn't she?

Nope!  My 'stubborn', 'on-a-mission' Bride was only feeling jealous because
her Hubby could manage his 'first time' in heels better than she'd ever
done!  She was green with envy for the second time .  First it was because
I didn't have to shave and now because of how well I walked in her heels
... Her five inch heels!  At least she hadn't connected the dots!

Like a doting mother helping her teen-age daughter dress for a prom Sally
slipped the emerald green satin confection over me and settled it in place,
smoothing wrinkles and making minute adjustments so that it hung perfectly.
When she did up the side zip it hugged me like a second skin.  The capped
sleeves fluttered delicately over my shoulders.

The pleated sweetheart neckline discreetly veiled the lace trim decorating
my slip and bra ... Not to mention my lack of cleavage.  The hem settled
exactly two inches below my knees and the skirt flared out just exactly
like it was supposed to, what with my petticoat pouffing it out and all.

"I just can't believe how perfect it fits!"  Sally exclaimed in an
exasperated tone!

More jealousy?

"I'm a Size Four Petite and my dress actually fits you as perfectly as it
fits me!  One thing's for sure, though!  Your petite figure is certainly no
testament to the size of your generous ding-a-ling!  Thank goodness!"

She patted the front of my dress to emphasize how content she was with the
size of the muscle between my legs.

'Thank goodness!', indeed!  The insulation provided by the weighty satin of
my dress and the stiffness of my petticoat prevented her from feeling the
exquisite hardness which was lounging contentedly inside my panties.

Sally walked me around the house, arm in arm, marveling at how easily I
adapted to wearing her clothes and, especially, her sky-high heels.  In her
patented motherly manner she teased,

"Can you feel how your dress and petti swish and sway back and forth when
you move?

"Can you feel how your slip protects your nylons?

"Can you feel your garters tugging on your stockings?

"Notice how sky-high heels make your tush thrust out so enticingly?  How
they force you to proudly call attention to your bosom?

"Those are the divine sensations all girls feel.  And, one of the main
reasons we dress the way we do!  Guys think we dress up just for them.
Silly boys!  Girls dress up, first of all, because we love feeling all
girly.  And second, to impress other girls!

"Just look at you!  So Girly!  And, I'm definitely impressed!"

She raised my arm and twirled me around several times.  That caused my
dress and petticoat to flare out wildly.  I was in heaven!

"It does feel different!  Nice, I mean.  Really nice!"  I murmured, not
wanting to give away exactly how utterly Girly and how utterly turned on I
was really feeling.  "But I still look like a guy in a dress!  Don't you
think?"  Another subtle hint to keep things moving!

"Silly boy!  We haven't finished yet!"  she said patronizingly.

Sally was convinced ... Had convinced herself ... That I had potential.

"There's still your make-up, wig, jewelry, and ... Oh my god! ... Your
nails!  We have to do something with your nails!  I completely forgot!
Your toes too!  These open-toe pumps scream for a vivid polish!"

"But my nails aren't that long!  Nowhere near as long as yours!  What can
you possibly do?"  I asked innocently.

Sally was proud of her fashionably long talons.  She spent hours and hours
grooming them to perfection.  She changed her nail color as often as she
changed wigs.

"Honey!  I want you to be perfect when we go out!  You know me!  Never do
anything half-way!  You'll be my perfect creation!  And look!  Your nails
aren't that short!  See?  They're even a little past your fingertips.  And
you do keep them so nice and tidy ... Like I've taught you.  All we need to
do is file them properly.  They'll look lovely after I'm through.  Leave it
to me.  I am a professional, after all!"

She pouted in that oh-so sexy way.

"Here.  Sit at my vanity.  Let your loving wife do what she does best.  And
for heaven's sake, keep your knees together!  Always remember to be the
best little lady-like Tranny you can be!"

The one aspect of feminizing myself I had been forced to avoid over the
years was applying all the colorful nail polishes real girls got to wear.
It was way too risky.  There was too much chance, even with a gallon of
polish remover, I'd inadvertently leave traces under my cuticles.  It would
be way too embarrassing to have to explain.

Now, for the very first time, I was about to experience a manicure.  A
perfectly feminine manicure.  A perfectly feminine manicure and pedicure!

Sally draped one of her rayon capes over my dress and secured it around my
neck before sitting opposite me in a matching vanity chair.

"Can't have your pretty dress mussed, can we?"

She'd already filled a small bowl with warm soapy water and placed it on
one of those new-fangled TV trays she'd set off to the side.

It was when she reached under my dress to remove my nylons and her hand
brushed against my member that calamity struck!

My man-muscle was betraying me!  It was doing what it always did whenever
silky fabric encases it ... caresses it!  Sally gasped in dismay as she
felt my stiff little friend obscenely tenting her panties!  She gripped it
and squeezed it!  Hardly able to believe what she was feeling!  Then it
suddenly dawned on her.  I could see in her eyes she had grasped the truth
... Just as surely as her hand grasped my traitorous muscle!

"What?  What's wrong, Honey?"  I asked with bogus sincerity.

"Oh my god!  You're turned on by these panties!  By all the clothes you're
wearing!  You've had at least four orgasms already today and now you're
turned on again ... By wearing my clothes!"

She was beginning to get a bit hysterical.

"Of course I'm turned on, Honey!  Who wouldn't be, what with your hands
running up and down my legs and all?"

It was my silly attempt to divert her attention.  It didn't work.  It never
does!

"Nice try!"  she wailed.  "That's not it at all!  I've been standing here
naked ...  Seductively, teasingly naked ... And the whole time your
... Your thingee has been hanging there like a wet noodle!  All it took was
slipping my panties over your thingee and ... Whamo! ...  Instant erection!
Oh god!  You're more turned on by my clothes than by me!  This is a fine
kettle of fish!  It just can't be!  You ARE a Transvestite!"

I was dumbstruck!  This was the last thing I needed!  To have Sally so
upset she'd trash the whole Plan!  It was working so well ... Up until my
Mind-Of-Its-Own-Benedict-Arnold betrayed me!

I did manage to fend off her attempt to push me away as I tried to hug and
comfort her.

With my arms wrapped tightly around her and my padded out bosom mashing
against her naked breasts I cooed,

"Sally please!  It's not that way!  I love you!  It's you who's turning me
on!  I swear!"

Then, I started pleading,

"Let me prove it to you!  Please!  I'll take off all this stuff and show
you just how much you turn me on!  Let's just forget about all this!"

She was still gripping me down there.  I tried to stand up.  I tried to
reach for the zipper so I could shed my dress and everything else.

"No!"  she declared.  "All this may have started with your Dream!  But,
everything that's happened since was MY idea!  And I'll be damned if I'm
gonna quit now!"

Her use of profanity told me just how upset she was.  Sally never uses
profanity.

"We'll find out soon enough if it's my clothes or me that turns you on!
We're going to see this through!  And that's final!  Besides," she added
coyly, "You do look kind of cute!"

She gave me one final ferocious squeeze to emphasize the finality of her
decision.

"Ouch!"  I squealed.  "Please, Sally!  We don't have to do this!"  I said
unpersuasively.

I really wanted so desperately to see this through.  But, on the other
hand, not at the cost of upsetting Sally.

"No, Sammy.  I want to do this!  I have to do this!  I have to find out if
it's me or my clothes!  Anyway, I might be wrong, you know."

Her voice was softening.

"I don't understand, Sally.  Wrong about what?"

"It's not that complicated."  she said contemplatively.  "I was just
thinking, even I ... When I get all dressed up ... You know ... Sexy silky
lingerie, nylons, a pretty dress and sky-high heels ... When I'm dressed to
kill ... Like you are now ... All of that ... It STILL turns me on!  And
I've been doing it my whole life!

"I get this fabulously sexy feeling!  And, the whole time I'm making myself
pretty, all I can think about is ravaging you!  Why should YOU be any
different?  I'll bet you're thinking of ravaging me right now!  Aren't you?

"Nosiree, Honey!  We're gonna see this Dream of yours through to the end
and when we get home I have no doubt you'll show me what really turns you
on!"

"If you're sure you want to, Sally.  If you're sure," I whispered.

"I'm sure!"  she whispered back, flashing that sweet and sexy smile I
loved.  "I'm sorry I got so upset.  Really, I am.  It was just such a
surprise when I reached under your dress!"

And so, she placed my hands in the soapy water and went for the footbath so
I could soak my feet.  I was shaking!  I was worried maybe I'd gone too
far.  With all my psychological training ... My years of studying human
behavior ... Had I miscalculated? ... Had I miscalculated not only Sally's
reaction to my 'Dream' but my own, as well?

In no time at all Sally had my nylons off and my feet soaking in the warm
and soothing water.  It was relaxing.  It only took her twenty minutes to
tidy up the cuticles, file the nails round and smooth, and apply two coats
of fire-engine red polish.

While that dried she did the same to my fingernails.  The soft ovals she
shaped could have been suitable for either a man or a woman.  But once she
painted them they became distinctly feminine.  I marveled at the deep red
color.  Color I had never seen on my own nails before.  I held up my hands,
arms and palms extended out and my fingers extended upward, examining them
as any girl would.  Sally giggled at that!

"While you're admiring my handiwork I'll get dressed.  You really are
getting into this whole girly thing, aren't you?  Hold your hands out like
that.  Flap them a bit.  It'll dry faster."  she cooed softly.

She ran both hands under my dress and gently massaged my traitorous member
as she leveraged her naked body up and out of her chair.

"Still hard down there, I see."  she observed knowingly.

At least she was smiling.

In the time it took for my nails to fully dry, Sally dressed, coifed her
lovely shoulder length hair, and did her make-up to perfection.  She opted
to wear her exquisite, figure-hugging, hot pink silk sheath over a pale
pink silk bustier which drew in her waist to the same enticing twenty-one
inches as my own.

I practically swooned at the sight of the tell-tale impression of her
garter tabs underneath the fabric of her skin tight sheath.  Discrete
padding lifted her breasts up so dramatically they were almost spilling out
over the top!  She twirled on her five-inch heels.  Seductively showing off
and modeling her gorgeous figure.

I loved the flash of lace on the hem of her pale pink slip which peeked out
from behind the single rear kick pleat.

"I know in your Dream we both wore full dresses and petticoats.  I thought
I'd wear this calf-length sheath instead.  You'll be the one with billowing
skirts.  You don't mind, do you?"  she asked rhetorically.  Then, running
her hands over her breasts and hips, she whispered, "You like?"

"I love it!"  I hissed breathlessly.  "It's gorgeous!"  I added.  "I mean
... You're gorgeous!"

"Maybe you'd rather wear this little number instead!"  she teased.  "Oooh!
I forgot!  You can't!  Not with that incorrigible thingee of yours!"

She ran a hand teasingly over the flesh of her semi exposed breasts, her
tiny pooch of a tummy and the flat front of her skirt.  I blushed
furiously.  Her accusatory observation had hit the nail squarely on the
head!

Sally expertly painted my face ... Emerald green and beige eye shadows,
dramatically thick mascara, liquid black eyeliner extending well past the
outer corners of my eyes, transparent foundation, deep red rouge and,
finally, fire-engine red lipstick to match my nails.

She spritzed me in all the right places with her favorite perfume.  She
plucked a few strays from my brows ... They really weren't bushy and they
did have a natural, though not overly feminine, arch.  She clipped a pair
of dangly rhinestone earrings on my lobes, added a double-strand pearl
necklace, three cocktail rings, two golden bracelets on my left wrist and
her gold watch on my right.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror.  I was awestruck!  I had never
been able to come close to the perfection she had managed to create in just
a few short minutes.  My hidden man-muscle and all-too visible crew-cut
stood in shocking testimony that I truly was the Transvestite she had
accused me of being.

"I swear, Sammy, I could take you out just as you are ... Crew-Cut and all
... No one would take you for anything but a real girl ... A sexy, and
oh-so fashionable girl at that!"

She was bursting with pride in the feminine image she had created!

"What?"  I asked in disbelief.  "I can't go out with my hair like this!"

For a few brief panic-filled seconds I thought she was serious.

"Just kidding!"  she laughed.  "Let's try this."

She deftly positioned her shoulder length honey blond wig on my head.  Made
a few adjustments and gently teased the soft waves with her brush.

"This'll help hold your hair in place."  she lectured.  The bottle of
specially formulated mucilage with its bristle brush built into the cap was
her solution.  With just a thin coat strategically applied under the edge
of the wig cap, my hairpiece was certain to be held firmly in place.  Sally
was obviously proud of the finished 'Product'!

"I never thought I was one of those Lezzies, you know!" ss she wrapped her
arms around me.  "But, looking at you now, I could be!  You look good
enough to eat!"

She hissed hotly into my ear in the most seductive tone of voice.

"Lesbian!"  I yowled in disbelief.  "I'm no Lesbian!"

"Honey," she calmly began to point out.  "Look at yourself.  Look at me.
What do you see?  I see two drop-dead gorgeous, dressed-to-kill Girls!  If
we were to hop into bed right now and make love ... What would you call it?
No matter which way you look at it, it would be two Girls making love,
wouldn't it?  If that's not Lezzy, I don't know what is!  You're my Lezzy
Tranny Hubby!  And I love you!  That makes me your Loving Lezzy Wife!"

My naughty response was to seductively raise my skirts to my waist,
exposing my mint green panties and the obscenely hard muscle inside.

"Be my guest, Lezzy!  Take me!  Take your Lezzy Tranny right here and now!"

Even to my ears it sounded like I was begging for it!  Begging for it like
the wantonly seductive girl I appeared to be!

"Don't even think about it, my sexy little Tranny!  Not now!  First we go
out to dinner.  Then we come home and make the MOST passionate love ever!
Remember?  That was what you dreamed.  Wasn't it?  Besides, then you'll
have your chance to show me who, or what, really turns you on!"

Sally had thrown down the gauntlet!  She had taken over my 'Dream'
... Embellished it ... Made it her own ... Manipulated me to go out in
public ... And afterward prove to her I wasn't a Transvestite ... Prove it
wasn't just her clothes which got me all worked up!  No problem there!
Like I said ... This was gonna be a cinch!

I was as horny as I'd ever been.  But she was determined to deny me
anything resembling sex until she was ready ...  Until she had play-acted
my 'Dream' exactly according to the original script.  For my part I just
knew I was in for the MOST passionate love fest I'd only dreamt of!  The
anticipation of that was all the motivation I needed to see this evening
through to its conclusion.

Now fully in charge, she handed me a beaded clutch purse and a lovely black
lace shawl, grabbed me by the hand, and we were off.  The sun may have been
just about to set ... But to me ... It was the dawn of a new day!

After all my years of PLAYING dress-up, I wasn't playing anymore!  This was
the real thing!  This was no Dream!  Come to think of it, I'd never really
had the 'Dream' to begin with!  Had I?

We slid into her '55 Chevy convertible.  If she noticed my graceful entry
... The way I smoothed my dress ... The way I sat first then swung my legs
in ... Just the way I'd seen her do a million times ... She didn't say
anything about it.  Of course Sally insisted on driving.  There was no way
she was going to let me drive in sky-high heels.

Besides, my very first time out, unprotected by the confines of my private
sanctum, I was way too preoccupied by all the new sensations overwhelming
my very being.  The rustle of my skirts in concert with the early evening
crickets, the tap-tap-tap of my heels on the sidewalk, the warm evening
breeze billowing my dress, the flash of my gleaming nails under the lights
of the dashboard ... all of those things and more would be way too
distracting.

Sally drove to an exclusive restaurant forty-five minutes away.  One
neither we, nor any of our friends, had ever frequented.  She assured me
she wasn't at all concerned anyone would see through my disguise.  Quite
the opposite.  She didn't want to take any chance of running into any of
her friends who might see her holding hands and flirting with a gorgeous
girl!  It would be way too embarrassing for her to have to explain!  She
said she could tell just how comfortable and confident I was play-acting
the role of the pretty girl I appeared to be.

Little did she know that, unlike my home-alone play-acting, and no matter
how confident Sally was, this time it was the fear of discovery which
motivated me to eagerly mimic all the feminine mannerisms which came so
naturally to Sally.  In truth, they were all the feminine mannerisms which
I had been mimicking since I was twelve years old.  The really tough part
for me was to not let on they came just as naturally to me as they did to
her.  She was reassuring and complimentary ...  Just as she had been in my
'Dream' ... If I'd ever had the 'Dream', that is!

In all honesty, the contrasting image of our outfits ... Her hot-pink
sheath and my emerald-green bouffant cocktail gown ... Caused more than a
few heads to turn and stare as we entered the posh eatery ... Holding hands
and giggling secretively like two lovers.

The 'Tutt-Tutt's' we heard from several women and the lust-filled looks we
got from their men was enough to get us both unbelievably turned on!  To
say our 'Girls' night out was successful would be a colossal
understatement.

From perching on barstools and sipping wine while we waited for our table,
to enjoying a sumptuous dinner while our waiter doted on his two gorgeous
patrons, to freshening our make up afterward in the exquisitely appointed
women's lounge, to gracefully entering the car while the valet held my hand
and obligingly stared at my legs as I daintily slid into the passenger seat
...  Everything was perfect!

Everything, that is, except for the embarrassing moment when we politely
declined an invitation from two single gentlemen to dance.  I have no doubt
our refusal to dance with two handsome guys confirmed what a lot of folks
had been thinking about us all along.  I was mortified!  Sally thoroughly
enjoyed teasing me endlessly for the rest of the evening!


Especially when she teasingly commented, "Tranny-Sammy won't even dance
with a man!  See! ... You must be a Lezzy!"

All in all, Sally was beside herself with joy!  She gushed and gushed about
how perfectly feminine I had behaved.  She swore up and down she felt no
different than all the times she had been out with Theresa, or any of her
other girlfriends.  She even marveled at the feminine voice I was forced to
adopt so I wouldn't be detected.  She couldn't wait 'til we got home!

As she drove she was licking her lips in anticipation of the MOST
passionate loving.  She wantonly stroked my feminine, crossed-at-the-knees,
nylon-clad legs.  Her hand glided higher and higher until she reached the
naked sliver of tender flesh between my nylons and the hem of my panties.
Then grazed it against my swollen member ... Teasingly retreating just
before I lost all control.  I was truly ready to explode by the time she
pulled into our garage.

Even still, when we entered the house, she insisted on dancing to soft
romantic music for a while ... Further prolonging and heightening my
exquisite agony.  After several lovely dances and a few more glasses of
wine she seductively lead me to our bedroom.  I was more than ready.  She
had seduced me to perfection.  Like a worldly connoisseur would seduce a
naïve virgin.

Sally slowly undressed me ... Taking her time to insure my silky lingerie
caressed every square inch of me ... Until, at long last, I stood before
her completely nude.  Even my make-up was gone.  So was my fire-engine red
nail polish, my jewelry, my honey blond wig.  I was her husband again
... Her male husband!  Not a trace of her beautifully feminine Tranny-Sammy
remained!  She laid me on the bed.  Propped me up on several pillows so I
had a clear view as she wantonly performed a delightful Strip Tease.

She stripped to the buff.  Her naked femininity was breathtaking
... Utterly overwhelming!  She sashayed over to the side of the bed,
standing on one foot and propping one knee on the edge of the mattress
... Flaunting her feminine treasure a mere few inches from my face.

"What?  No nightgowns?"  I asked hopefully, still using my sing-song femmy
voice.

"Not tonight, Hubby.  Just two naked bodies laying against each other.  A
naked Husband and a naked Wife making the MOST passionate love!"  she
hissed.

- ~ - ~

Sally crawled in next to me.  She hugged me.  She ran her hands up and down
my body.  She nibbled and licked my ear just the way I love.

Nothing!

I felt nothing!  My member was as shriveled and as flaccid as it had ever
been!  She stroked it ... Even scootched down and suckled it!  Nothing!  No
matter what she did, no matter what I tried to do! ...

Nothing!

I couldn't get it up!

I thought it might be the wine.  But I hadn't had any more wine than at any
other time.

I was Totally ... Hopelessly ... Impotent!

Sally began to sob quietly.  I felt horrible.  And, It didn't take a rocket
scientist to know exactly what was tearing her apart.  I tried to soothe
her.

"I don't know what's wrong, Sally!"  I whimpered.  "Honest!  This has never
happened before!  I don't know what it is!  It's just not working!"

Tears were streaming down her face.  I could feel them cascading onto my
chest.

"I know what's wrong!"  she moaned softly.  "I don't turn you on!  My naked
body doesn't turn you on!  You were hard as a rock all night!  All night
while you were wearing my clothes!  The minute we were naked ... Neither of
us wearing all the soft silks and lace and make-up and stuff ... You went
soft!  Even my mouth can't get you hard!  Oh god!"

Her sobbing intensified.

"It's not like that, Sally!  It's not!  Maybe it's the wine!"  I was
grasping at straws.

"It's not the wine!  And I can prove it to you! ... To both of us!"

She climbed out of bed and stomped over to her closet.  She returned
carrying the lavender nightgown in one hand and the pink one in her other
... The nightgowns we had worn earlier in the morning when this day had
begun.

"Stand up!"  she ordered.

I did.

She held out the lavender gown.

"Put this on!  Put it on now!"

I meekly complied while she donned her pink gown.

The instant I felt the silky gown slither down my body I became aroused!
...  Embarrassingly aroused!  Just as aroused as I had been before Sally
undressed me.  Sally mashed her satin and chiffon clad body against mine
and clamped her thighs around my shaft.  There was no denying it was the
caress of our nightgowns which was causing my instantaneous arousal!

The truth was out in the open now!

"I knew it!  I just knew it!"  she sobbed, her head laying on my shoulder.
"My clothes turn you on!  Not me!  Oh god!  What am I going to do?  What
are we going to do?  This just can't be happening!"

"But we've always been able to make love before!  Before now!  It has to be
something else!"  I pleaded.

"Don't you get it, you blockhead!  For a college graduate you're really
pretty dumb!"

She wasn't trying to be insulting.  Just emphatic.

"Get what?"  I asked numbly.

"Of course we've always been able to make love before now!  But ..."

She paused for one of those ultra-feminine melodramatic effects.

"I always ... And I mean ALWAYS ... Wear one of my sexy nightgowns when we
do, or a silky panty and bra set, or even a sexy garter belt, nylons, and
lacy teddy!

"Oh my god!  I just realized it!  We've never, EVER made love with both of
us totally naked!  It just never occurred to me it was my lingerie ... All
my clothes ... That turns you on!  Not me!  Not my body!  Oh god!  What am
I going to do now?"

She was devastated.

She released my erection from between her thighs and slipped off her
nightgown.  I didn't dare protest when she lifted mine over my head before
throwing both gowns into the farthest corner.  She collapsed onto the bed
and buried her face in the pillow.  She was sobbing uncontrollably.  I laid
next to her and tried to comfort her.  She pushed me away.  I finally slept
but it was a fitful sleep.  The worst sleep I could remember!

- ~ - ~

I felt Sally climb out of bed in the morning.  I was too ashamed and
embarrassed to face her.  So I faked sleeping.  She didn't return.  No
coffee and newspaper in bed as usual.  I drifted back to sleep.  It must
have been a couple of hours later when I woke to the sound of voices.
Sally and Theresa were talking quietly in the kitchen.

I got out of bed and slipped into a pair of sweats.  I stood quietly in the
hallway.  Eavesdropping on their conversation.

"It's just so bizarre, Theresa!  At first I thought I hadn't heard him
correctly.  I swear, I'm at a complete loss!  I just don't understand all
this!  I could really use your help!"

"You mean to tell me, Sally, like out of nowhere, he just blurted it out
... Told you about this Dream he had?"

"Like he was telling me the time of day, Theresa!  Like it was the most
normal thing in the world!  I'm really trying to understand all this!  Oh
dear, what should I do?"

"Well, Sally, from the way you've described his so-called 'Dream' and what
happened after, there's no doubt in my mind Sammy is definitely your
classic Transvestite.  That, I'm certain of!  And, from what I've read on
the subject, there's very little that can be done to cure him.  I mean it's
not likely he'll change his ways.  I still can't believe you actually went
along with all this!  You really are so young and naïve!

"Listen to me!  Once a boy becomes attracted, and I mean sexually
attracted, to women's clothing, it's a lifetime attraction ... An
irreversible addiction!  My goodness!  He's probably a Homosexual to boot!
Homos like him are a blight on the entire fabric of society, if you ask
me!"

Theresa spat those last words with as much hatred and venom as I'd ever
heard.

'Oh god!  Where was Theresa coming up with crap like this?'  My thoughts
were running wild.  'Is she trying to ruin my marriage?'

"Did you really dress him up like you said?  Like he asked you to?  And go
out to dinner like ... Like two girlfriends ... Like you and I do so often?
Gracious me!  That's really hard to believe.  And for him to even dare to
try to get away with it ... In public!  Of all the nerve!  It just tells me
how insidious his perversion is!"

"Well he did get away with it!"  Sally answered, her voice wavering
somewhere between resignation and defiance.  "And, HE didn't ask me to take
him out like that!  It was all MY idea!  Not only that!  The entire time we
were out I felt just like I do when you and I are out.  Like I was out with
any other girlfriend!  Believe it or not, it was quite a lovely evening.
We had so much fun together!  I think I'd actually love do it all over
again!"

In my mind's eye I could see her smiling.

"It was only when we got home and he couldn't, you know, do anything with
me ..."

Sally's quivering voice trailed off.  I could hear her sniveling.

'How could she do this to me?  How could she share our most intimate
secrets with Theresa?'

I felt the anger welling in my gut!  I was also feeling as guilty as I'd
ever felt.  Guilty for having manipulated my loving Bride just so I could
satisfy my own perverted desires!

Then again, were they really that perverted?  The way Sally was standing up
to Theresa, it didn't sound like SHE thought it was all that perverted!

As for Theresa calling me a Homosexual!  Outrageous!  Theresa was
conveniently ignoring the well-established reality of how often Sally and I
had sex ... Mad, Passionate, Utterly Satisfying, Loving ... Sex!  It was a
running joke amongst the four of us how Sally was even able walk ... As
often as we made love.

No way that could be happening if I was Homosexual!  The very idea of
having sex with a man revolted me!  For some twisted reasons of her own
Theresa was deceitfully manipulating Sally!

"If you want my advice, Sally, I'd try to snap some photos of him dressed
like he was last night.  You know, play along with him and then take
pictures so you have plenty of evidence to prove exactly what he's about.

"And make no mistake, Sally dear, if he can't find a way to satisfy his
sick and perverted addiction by wearing YOUR pretty clothes, he'll surely
find some other girl to take unfair advantage of!  Or maybe some young boy
who's just as sick as he is!  You know, there's plenty of out of the way
places Homos like him frequent to satisfy their uncontrollable and
disgusting urges!

"Is that what you want for the rest of your life?  A young girl like you
shouldn't have to be subjected to this!"

She was intimidating Sally.  And definitely trying to drive a wedge between
us ... To ruin our marriage!

"Evidence?  Evidence for what!"  Sally sounded scared.

"Evidence for the divorce, of course!  Or annulment, if that's what you
decide on.  Photographs of him gussied up like he was last night will be
all the evidence you need to take him to the cleaners.  You'll be able to
make him pay through the nose!"  Theresa said with sadistic confidence.

"But I don't want a divorce!  I don't want an annulment!"

She was getting angry.

"I want my husband!"  she sobbed.

"Well just think it over, Sally dear.  Do you want to suffer a lifetime of
embarrassment and humiliation his warped perversion will certainly cause
you.  Do you really want to be married to somebody like him?  A ... Sissy
... a Fairy Boy?"

Sally sighed, "I know it sounds crazy!  But!  Yes!  Yes, I do!  At least I
think I do!  No!  I'm sure I do!  I just need to know it's me he loves.
Not just my pretty clothes!"  she argued defiantly.  Then emphatically
added, "And, Theresa, let me tell you, he's no Fairy Boy!"

Sally's unexpected outburst made my heart swell ... I was so proud to be
her Husband.  At that moment I knew ... I knew as sure as the Sun rises in
the East, if Sally would stay with me ... Keep our marriage intact
... That, for my part, I'd never wear girls' clothes again!  It was the way
I'd prove to Sally it was really her ... Not her clothes ... I was
attracted to!  It was her I loved with all my heart!  I could see that now!
How could I have been so foolish?

I could hear Theresa gathering her things to leave.  I scuttled back to the
bedroom.  I heard the front door close and Sally padding back to our
bedroom.  I thought she'd try to wake me.  Instead she went into the
bathroom and I heard the shower start up.  Was she washing away the
puffiness around her eyes which had undoubtedly been caused by her
hysterical reaction last night and now from this emotional conversation
with Theresa?

I was still in bed when Sally came out of the shower.  She climbed into bed
and snuggled against me.  Her hair was still damp.  I could feel she was
wearing a fresh nightgown!  A soft, silky, dripping-with-lace nightgown.  I
opened my eyes and saw it was one of her favorites.  The peach floor length
satin gown which hugged her body like a second skin.  The one which had an
antique-lace bodice with sewn-in soft cups which accentuated her breasts.
The one she called her 'Mae West Nitie'.  Then, to my utter astonishment,
she pulled me to a sitting position and slipped her lavender nightgown over
my body and ... smiled!

"This is yours to keep, Darling! ... Forever, if you like! ... And so am
I!"

Sally slithered against my body.  Her hand found my burgeoning man-muscle.
She clamped it between her thighs and, as we had done only hours earlier,
we made the MOST passionate love!

- ~ - ~

Epilogue:

After we made love that morning, Sally told me about her conversation with
Theresa.  In between the bits and pieces she continually reaffirmed her
love for me.  She realized during Theresa's tirade it was Theresa who was
the perverted one ... The sick and disgusting one.  Someone whose undefined
hatred and prejudice overrode all logic and reason.

When she got to the divorce part she insisted a divorce was the last thing
she wanted.  She was mine forever.  Nothing would tear us apart!

As for any pictorial evidence, she laughed and said it wouldn't do any
good.  There'd be no way anyone would be able to identify me in the photos.

"You're all I want in life, Darling."  she moaned so lovingly.  "Especially
now ... Now that it means I'll be able to share my love with my Husband and
my new best 'Girlfriend'!"

It was my turn to sob uncontrollably!

As Sally comforted me I confessed I had eavesdropped and heard just about
all of her conversation with Theresa.  I added I had never felt so proud or
been so happy to have her as my Bride.

Then ... I confessed something I never, EVER thought I'd confess! ... Not
in this lifetime!

I shyly admitted I'd been dressing up in her clothes since shortly after we
were married.

I even guiltily admitted I'd been wearing my mother's and my sister's
clothes since I was twelve.  Initially it was being subjected to the
constant sight of my mother and sister strutting around the house in their
lingerie and stuff ... Making themselves so beautiful with make-up and
stuff ... Seeing how it made them seem so superior ... That's what made me
want to imitate them ... To the point of dressing like them!  And ever
since then wearing girls' clothes was, indeed, a sexual turn-on!

I sheepishly confessed I had concocted my 'Dream' so I wouldn't have to
sneak around behind her back.

I apologized profusely for having deceived her.  All I really wanted was to
be able to share this most stimulating aspect of my life with her.

"I swear on a stack of bibles I'll never wear your clothes again, Honey.
If that's the way you want it."  And, I meant it!

"I could never ask that of you, Sammy.  I can see how important it is to
you! ... To us! ... How much a part of you this is!  I want my husband!  I
really do!  I also want my sexy Tranny-Sammy!  Now that I've found 'Her', I
don't want to lose the best 'Girlfriend' I've ever had!"

Oh my!  I was speechless!

- ~ - ~

The next day Theresa called to tell me Randy wasn't feeling well and had
called in sick.  I'd have to drive in to work by myself.  It was obvious
she didn't know I had been listening in on her tirade with Sally, or what
had transpired after, because she was purposely rude and sounding very
imperious.  For obvious reasons, I guess.  The smugness in her voice told
me she was confident beyond any doubt Sally would heed the advice she had
offered her behind my back.

What a devious witch!

Sally was still at work when I left the house.  It was back to our normal
schedule.  I signed in at the front desk.  Abigail, the head nurse on the
Psych Ward, handed me a note instructing me to report to the Chief
Psychiatrist's office.

The meeting was short and to the point.

"Sam," Dr. Willard Benson began, "We have been informed about your
... Ahem! ... particular persuasion ... your Transvestite tendencies.  I'm
sure you understand just how impossible it would be for the Hospital to
permit a known Homosexual to continue working among mentally disturbed
patients.  You can certainly see our dilemma.  Can't you?"

I was astounded!  I was embarrassed!  I was humiliated beyond belief!  I
was furious!  It was bad enough my Bride had chosen to share our most
intimate secrets with our neighbor and so-called friend.  Our neighbor
whose husband also happened to be my Supervisor at work.

But to learn ... Especially to learn in this horrific manner ... That
Theresa had betrayed my wife's confidence.  And that Randy had, as Theresa
expected he would, reported our private marital escapades to the Hospital!
This was beyond all comprehension!  Even for the 1950's!

And to be accused of being a Homosexual!  To be told people with my
'particular persuasion' couldn't be trusted to work among mentally ill
patients was well-beyond the pale!

Now I knew why Randy had conveniently called in sick.  He didn't have the
guts to face me ... Let alone speak to me!

These were all professionals?  Weren't they?  Knowledgeable professionals?
Trained to understand and tolerate and treat the 'Human Condition'?
Especially a 'Human Condition' which harmed no one?  Which threatened no
one?

"Before we proceed any further," Dr.  Benson droned on, "I must tell you I
have made an appointment for you to be examined.  To undergo a thorough
psychiatric examination."

He casually informed me, as if he was telling me about his son's Cub Scout
activities.

"Take this appointment slip and report to Dr. Sheila DeMarco's office
immediately."

He summarily dismissed me.

I was numb with fear and apprehension.  Could they do this to me?  Could
they have me arrested?  Committed maybe?  I was shaking like a leaf!  My
thoughts were running wild as I was admitted to Dr. DeMarco's office.

Dr.  Sheila DeMarco turned out to be a rigid, authoritarian, and completely
unsympathetic woman.  The three hour interview and testing went as one
would expect.  Her parting comment before sending me back to Dr. Benson's
office was brusque and to the point.

"I actually pity you.  Truly I do.  You must be aware your psychiatric
condition ... Actually your sick, perverted fetish! ... Is incurable and
irreversible!

"You have embarked on a lifelong course of self-destructive behavior which
will only lead to a series of unending humiliations, or worse.  There's
nothing you can do to prevent people from eventually finding you out and
rejecting you at every turn.

"Your new Bride and your children, if you're stupid enough to have any,
will also be the targets of that same rejection and humiliation!  It would
be no surprise at all to learn that you've landed in jail!

"I also abhor the detestable manner in which you've deceived and
manipulated your youthful Bride!  If she has any brains at all, she'll be
suing for an immediate divorce!  My evaluation will certainly provide her
with all the necessary legal grounds!"

With finality, she spat her parting words at me,

"If this Hospital has anything to say about it, you'll never find work in
your chosen profession again!  You should be thoroughly ashamed of
yourself!"

Having been so cruelly chastised, I slunk my way back to Dr. Benson's
office with my tail between my legs.  He had several prepared forms stacked
neatly on his desk along with my Personnel File.  Without any prelude he
pointed to the forms.

"Sam, sign these resignation papers and we can avoid any public disclosure
of this distasteful matter.  The last thing we want is the nasty publicity
which will surely result if you force us to fire you.  I'm sure you'll want
to avoid any publicity as well.  If, however, you refuse to resign, we
won't hesitate to convene the Board and proceed with a public hearing to
terminate your employment!"

I signed the forms.  It was the 1950's after all.  Homosexuality was not
publicly tolerated.  Too many people equated Transvestism with
Homosexuality.  The only hope I had of ever working again was to keep this
affair as quiet as possible.

As I signed the required forms it gradually dawned on me!  The only hope
the Hospital had of avoiding any sort of negative repercussions was to
allow me to resign quietly.  In that way they'd never have to publicly
acknowledge I'd ever even worked there ... Or they'd employed a 'Homo' who
had treated their exclusive and wealthy patients!  That would be way too
risky and embarrassing for them to have to admit!  Some patients, or their
families, might even sue if they learned a 'Homo' had managed their care!

I looked at Dr. Benson.  He suddenly looked oddly nervous and very
concerned.  Maybe he saw the light bulb switch on over my head.  I suddenly
realized I had nothing to lose.  It was the Hospital which had everything
to lose!  Maybe I could turn this around.  The manipulative wheels began
spinning in my head!  If I played my cards right maybe I could make all
this work to my advantage.

It was my turn to throw down the gauntlet.

"There, Dr. Benson! Here's my resignation!  I'm certain it will insure the
Hospital won't suffer any negative repercussions or publicity!"  I spat out
sarcastically.  "I must say, however, ... And you know this to be true!
... I have an impeccable work record!  I have hurt no one!  All I've done
is put on a dress for the sole purpose of enhancing the loving relationship
my wife and I share!  All in the privacy of our home!"

I smiled an ironic and knowing smile.  "And, for the record, I am not a
Homosexual!  You and I both know Transvestism does not equate with
Homosexuality!  Your assertions and venomous accusations are slanderous!  I
may even consider a law suit ... A very public law suit for slander against
this Hospital, as well as you and Dr.  DeMarco personally!  Think of the
publicity THAT would bring!"

I was on a roll!

"I fully intend to seek employment in this field elsewhere.  I also fully
expect you, or your successors, to provide me with favorable, even glowing,
references.  If you don't, I promise I will make this entire incident
public!  I will do everything in my power to make it known how and why I
was forced to resign and that the way in which you've handled this matter
has been discriminatory, intolerant, unprofessional, and slanderous!"

Before storming out I barked accusatorily, "And you have the nerve to call
yourself a Healer!"

I felt good ... Empowered ... In complete control!  I began to see some
light at the end of this dark tunnel ...  Some hope for a future for Sally
and me.  I turned and stalked out of his office.  But not before insisting
he provide me with a copy of my Personnel File and Dr. DeMarco's biased
evaluation.  My unexpected outburst had caught him completely off guard.
He was so distraught he agreed to my demands and handed over everything
without so much as a whimper!

When I got home I found Sally curled up in a ball on the couch.  She was
crying hysterically.  Turns out Theresa had called and joyfully informed
her of my dismissal.  Gloated over it, actually!  Word travels fast!

"Oh god!"  Sally sobbed.  "I'm so sorry, Darling!  It's all my fault!  How
could I have been so stupid?  I trusted her!  I went to Theresa for help!
All I wanted was to learn something about this ... this 'thing' that's
happened so suddenly!  This 'thing' that seems like it's changed our
relationship forever!  I'm so sorry!  I was so afraid of losing you!  Of
losing our marriage!  And what did she do?  She betrayed me ... Our
friendship!  She's ruined you!  Called you a Homo!  A Pervert!  She even
insisted on giving me the name of a divorce lawyer!  Said I'd be well-rid
of you!  Oh god!  What have I done?"

I comforted her in my arms as best I could.  It took a while but she
finally calmed down enough to answer when I asked how she had responded to
Theresa.

"Not very politely, I'm afraid."  She sobbed gently.  "I told her to go to
Hell!  I called her a Bitch!  Then I hung up on her!  What else was there
to say?  Are you okay?  Are we gonna be okay?"

For the first time that day I actually began laughing!

"I'm fine, Honey!  We're fine!  You handled Theresa wonderfully!  I
couldn't have done better myself!"  I assured her.

I related my final conversation with Dr. Benson, including my not-so-veiled
threat to sue for slander.  There was no need to burden her with the
details of Dr. DeMarco's vitriolic outburst.

"I'll start sending out résumés right away, Sweetheart.  Don't forget,
there were lots of Hospitals begging me to come to work for them after
graduation.  I'll get another job in no time.  You'll see!"

- ~ - ~

Two Years Later:

Sally and I lounged in comfortable Adirondack chaises on the white sands in
front of our hotel on Waikiki Beach.  We were sipping scrumptious
fruit-laden cocktails ... The ones which come in hollowed-out coconut
shells with those colorful paper umbrellas.  We were celebrating the second
anniversary of my employment at the largest Psychiatric Hospital in our new
home town.  And our very first vacation.

It had only taken me two weeks after resigning to find the new position.
And in the two years I had been there I had already been promoted twice!
The increases in salary allowed Sally to quit working.  She occupied her
days doing charity work, maintaining our home, and, of course, taking full
advantage of all the marvelous sales the exclusive department stores held
regularly.  She had even found the time to earn her college degree.

In stark contrast to all that and to my utter dismay, my former employer
had reneged on the non-disclosure agreement.  The first time I'd applied
for a position, Dr. Sheila DeMarco had maliciously divulged all the
unsavory details surrounding my 'Dismissal'.

'Dismissal' indeed!  Harrumph!  She hadn't even bothered to refer to it as
my 'Resignation'!  Her false assertion that I'd been fired was all the
ammunition my lawyers needed.

Fortunately, San Francisco Psychiatric Hospital didn't give a rat's
patootie!  The budding Bohemian political and social atmosphere in that
great City turned out to be exactly as advertised ...  Far more tolerant
and accepting.

The obscenely large out-of-court settlement my lawyers reached after I
filed suit for slander dug very deep into the Hospital's coffers and just
as deep into Dr.  DeMarco's personal savings.  I had even heard rumors she
was being investigated by the State Medical Board Ethics Committee.  An
out-of-court settlement was the only way the Hospital could avoid further
law suits and the negative publicity they would surely bring.

It was only because I loved my profession that I continued working.  We
certainly didn't need the money.

Another titillating revelation came to our attention when, during their
preparation of my lawsuit, my lawyers had uncovered an interesting, though
now totally irrelevant, little tidbit.  It turns out Randy was, in fact,
Theresa's second husband.  Her first husband had sued her for divorce after
he had run off with another man!  That certainly answered a lot of nagging
questions!

I took a long sip of my drink and smiled warmly at Sally.  She grasped my
hand and returned my smile.

"I love you Samantha!  I truly do!"  she gushed.  "And, by the way, I love
your new swimsuit!  I told you these new two-piece Bikinis were the latest
rage!  I just knew you'd be a big hit here in Waikiki!  Don't you feel just
so positively sexy and decadent?  I'm so glad you've overcome all that
silly self-consciousness and feel comfortable enough to flaunt your
gorgeous new breasts in public.  They do look sooo yummy!"  she giggled.

"Thank you, Sweetheart!  They are yummy!  But not as yummy as yours!  I'm
so glad you convinced me to take such a dramatic step and have them
permanently enhanced.  I love them too!"  I cooed, as I ran the tip of my
ultra-long fingernail along the semi-exposed flesh of my well-endowed
bosom.

"A far cry from those foam rubber falsies you brought home so long ago,
don't you think?  Better living through chemistry!  Ahhh!  The miracles of
modern medicine!"  I giggled.

I leaned over and softly kissed her cherry-red lips.  I loved how the two
flavors of our lipsticks mingled.

More than a few fellow tourists stared in obvious disbelief as they watched
two Lesbians brazenly engaging in such a lustful and immoral public
display.

We really weren't Lesbians, though.  Between my legs I still retained that
"Delicious hunk of man-muscle", as Sally liked to call it.  It truly did
give us both so much pleasure!

Of course, being two highly intelligent college grads, it hadn't taken very
long for us to discover a wickedly clever way for me to keep it discreetly
tucked out of sight!  I could finally enjoy wearing those professional
looking and sinfully tight pencil skirts at work ... Just like Sally used
to.

Oh yes!  And bikini swimsuits like the one I was wearing at the moment!  An
ingenious scientist had just invented something called Spandex.  Truly, a
miracle fabric designed to insure that 'Girls' like me could appear in
public ... And always feel confident and secure!

The sun was beginning to set.  We began packing up our sundries into the
new floral canvas beach bag Sally had found in the hotel gift shop.  We
made quite a sight!  Two bikini-clad nymphets walking hand in hand and
dangling our strappy sandals from our fingertips.  It was way too difficult
to negotiate across the soft white sand in three inch heels!

"Samantha Darling, I can't wait 'til the Luau tonight!  You're gonna look
so very tempting in your new Hawaiian shift.  Emerald-green is definitely
your color!  The low cut neckline is gonna call lots of attention to your
new ... ahem! ... Lovely assets!  Think you can handle it?"

She giggled like a schoolgirl.  She loved the envious stares I got from
women and the lustful stares I got from men.  Of course I felt the exactly
same way about all the attention Sally received.

Regardless of all the unsolicited attention, we only had eyes for each
other.  We both knew I was a Transvestite ...  Although now I suppose we'd
have to use that new, psychologically accepted description
... Transgendered.  We both also knew I was NOT ... In any way, shape, or
form ... A Homosexual.

In all fairness, however, I must admit I do enjoy an occasional dance with
a handsome gentleman.  So long as it's just a dance ... And nothing more!
A 'Girl' like me is, if nothing else, always polite to a gentleman admirer.

"Love the way your nails have grown out, Samantha.  That new color is just
sooo you!  And, I'm so thrilled you decided to color your hair honey blond.
Do you realize it's the same color as the very first wig I loaned you.  You
remember ... The wig I loaned you after you first told me about your
'Dream'."

"How could I ever forget that wig, Darling!"  I reminisced.  "Or my 'Dream'
for that matter!"

Sally squeezed my hand tightly.  "Oooh!  I hate to think where we'd be now
if you'd never told me about your positively delightful, and oh-so naughty,
'Dream'!

"And, don't forget, Samantha.  We're picking up your mother and sister and
the airport tomorrow morning!  Their first time in this tropical paradise!
It'll be so wonderful to see them again!"

Unbelievable as it sounds, six months earlier Sally had convinced me to
come clean with Mom and Sis.  It was a decision none of us had ever
regretted.  Our life was like a Dream come true!

"Let's hurry, Samantha.  We don't want to be late for our salon
appointments!  Do we?"

FIN

Simonne Danielle

Copyright 2008

All rights reserved

simonnedanielle1204@hotmail.com

In the tradition begun by Fred Gingerman, one of the brightest authors to
grace this site, and one of my favorites, I offer, for your perusal, my
other stories on nifty:

"The Ranch Hand" - - TG - -Authoritarian

"A Boy Can Dream ... Can't SHE? - Part 1" - - TG - - Teen

"A Boy Can Dream ... Can't SHE? - Part 2" - - TG - - Teen

"A Boy Can Dream ... Can't SHE? - Part 3" - - TG - - Teen

"Faster, Bennie!  Faster!" - - TG - - tv

"So This Guy Walks Into A Bar ... Part 1" - - TG - - tv

"So This Guy Walks Into A Bar ... Part 2" - - TG - - tv

"So This Guy Walks Into A Bar ... Part 3" - - TG - - tv