Not What You Expected -3- First Two Days

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NOT WHAT YOU EXPECTED-3- FIRST TWO DAYS

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By Joannebarbarella

There ought to be a law
...........

When my mother entered the kitchen it was just as well I was facing away from the door. I had already had one severe shock today and this was heart-attack material. Somebody should tell the gods or goddesses that they are only allowed to do this to mere mortals once a day. There ought to be a law.

I knew I was going to have to turn around and I took a couple of really deep breaths to steel myself for what I was sure would be an unnerving and possibly disastrous experience.

In the meantime Cathy said, “Hello, Marie, what brings you here?”

“Well, hello, Cathy dear. I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you were off to Sydney for a while and I just wanted to make sure Tommy was OK while you were away.”

There was a little bit of bitchiness in the remark. My mum still hadn’t quite got warm and cuddly with Cathy. A mother with an only son could be possessive on occasions. She had brought me up on her own too. I never knew my father, except as a good-looking young man in my mother’s wedding photos and a couple of others of them together. He had gone to Papua-New Guinea to take up a new job when I was about six months old, but had been killed in an accident on a construction site before we could follow him. She didn’t remarry, although I could remember “uncles” calling on her when I was young.

Cathy explained about the airline cock-up and how she had come home rather than wait for hours at the airport.

“I thought Tom would be here too, when I saw his car in the garage, but he’s probably gone off with some potential client.”

“Yes, well I’m sorry about barging in but the garage door was open and so was the laundry entry.”

“It’s OK, Marie. You know you’re always welcome. Would you like a cup of tea now you’re here?”

What was she thinking?

“Oh, you haven’t met Tanya. Sheer coincidence, she’s an old, old friend of mine, and we bumped into each other at the airport. We’ve known each other for ever but I haven’t seen her since she went overseas, so it seemed like a good idea to fill in the wait by coming back here to freshen up and I did so want her to meet Tom. I‘m sure they’d have a lot in common.”

I thought I was going to die as I turned to face my mum. I wasn’t ready for this yet. Then I saw she wasn’t wearing her glasses. My mum is a very attractive woman, even at close to fifty, but she’s also quite vain and hates to wear her specs unless absolutely necessary, like for driving or reading at home. She’s as blind as the proverbial bat without them. We might just get away with this.

“Hello,M.. Marie. It was such a pleasure to meet Cathy again. I’m just sorry I haven’t met Tom yet, but we’ve been catching up on old times.” I almost called her “Mum”!

She peered at me. “So nice to meet you dear. Have we met before? You look familiar.”

“I don’t think so. I’m sure I’d remember if we had, and I only got back from England a couple of months ago. Can I interest you in a sandwich while you’re waiting for Tom?”

Talk about daring.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to be any trouble. Anyway, now that I know Cathy’s here, he’ll be in good hands when he gets back. I’ll be on my way. Tell him I dropped by, Cathy.” She was looking kind of embarrassed and I couldn’t figure out why.

“I will Marie, but are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of tea before you go?”

“No, no, it’s all right. I’ll give him a ring later. I’ll be on my way and leave you girls to have a nice chat.”

So saying she exited the same way she came in.

Cathy was only barely holding herself in check and she nearly exploded once she had made sure my mum was really gone. She was chuckling away to herself.

“Did I miss something? I just thought I was dead lucky to get away without a confrontation there.”

By now, Cathy was holding her sides and spluttering.

“Oh, Tanya, darling, we were, but it wasn’t only her eyesight. We’re both wearing sexy black stockings and high heels with, in your case, a pink satin dressing gown, and in my case a housecoat. No woman goes around the house like that. You know what she thought, don’t you?”

“No. I wondered why she seemed to want to get out of here.”

“She thinks she caught us in some kind of high jinks, in flagrante delicto, a lesbian affair!” and she howled with laughter.

After a bit I started howling too. “She doesn’t know how close to the truth she is,” I got out with a struggle, and we collapsed in each other’s arms, chortling. I thought how nice it was, woman-to-woman contact, the delicate aroma of a feminine perfume, the feel of satin and silk together and the conjunction of breasts, the sensation of my bra under the dressing gown and the rub of our nylons one against the other, while my heels tipped me forward into the embrace.

When we stopped laughing we carried on holding each other and the only male part I had left started to assert itself. She pulled the front of my dressing gown apart and undid her housecoat, letting it drop to the floor. I pushed her back against the kitchen table and she guided my pulsing member into its docking bay. There’s something deliciously wicked about having sex in odd places, particularly when you’re wearing high heels, sheer black stockings, a suspender belt and a push-up bra, long hair brushing against your cheeks and hoop ear-rings dangling. It adds that je-ne-sais-quoi to making love and I resolved to do it more often as she leaned back and wrapped her legs around me.

Eventually we got our sandwich.

She made a phone call to a beautician she knew who did house-calls and arranged for her to come to our house at ten the next day, fully equipped to give me hair extensions and new nails. She took me upstairs to go and get dressed (again).
At first I didn’t know why. Then she told me we were going to get collagen in my lips, have my ears pierced, and buy me some shoes. There was no way I could last any longer without shoes. I begged her not to make me go out but she insisted, reminding me I had promised to obey her.

“But I can’t,” I pleaded. “I’ve never spoken to anyone outside. They’ll pick me in an instant.”

“You really are a scaredy-cat, aren’t you? Look, we just fooled your mother. You spoke so like a girl. She may be blind but she’s not deaf. I was amazed how girly you sounded. You just have to do more of the same. Anyway, I promise you I won’t put you in any situations where you have to say very much.”

So I acquiesced weakly, allowing her to take charge of me. She let me wear the same skirt that I had on this morning, making me blush when she told me how nice it was and making me promise to let her borrow it sometime. She gave me one of her tops, a sexy coral-pink job to match my lipstick, with a scoop neck and three-quarter length sleeves with a flare at the ends and “GRRRL” in sequins across the front. I put it on and fell in love with it. It was really fun having somebody to share with. I had never had a fashion consultant before.

She lent me a big black bag, filling it with make-up and tissues and a purse with money (in case of emergencies) and tampons for authenticity. She insisted I had to be a girl from the skin outwards. Even though I knew I was a girl I had to admit that I lacked some of the training that females absorb from infancy.

She lied to me. Yes, the first things we fixed were my ears, and I admired the diamond studs we bought and inserted. Then we went to a salon and I had my lips filled with collagen. It was strange at first, but after the therapist had spent a few minutes massaging the injections into my lips I was admiring these pillows that made me look like Angelina Jolie or a super-model and when I applied my lipstick to them I was in ecstasy. What with the transformation of my eyebrows and now these magnificent lips I knew there was no going back, not that I had any wish to do so.

It made me as vain as hell. Talk about my mother. I stopped at every mirror we passed and admired myself. Cathy said she was wetting herself looking at me, I was so gorgeous. She couldn’t wait to kiss me.

Then we went shopping for shoes. I had to talk in the stores, because the assistants would comment on my choices and I had to say whether I liked this pair or that. After a while I realized that no-one was commenting on my voice and I relaxed a little. I ended up with fifteen pairs from three stores. They were absolutely divine, nearly all heels, pumps with pointy toes, sandals, strappy, you name it, and a couple of pairs of flatties. Cathy paid with her credit cards and said I could pay her back when mine were changed to “Tanya”.

I thought we would go home then, but she dragged me into store after store and we bought underwear and skirts and tops and dresses. I was mortified at first when I had to use the changing rooms to try on outfits, but again, after the first three or four times I realized that nobody was running screaming for the police because a man was in the ladies’ dressing room and actually began to enjoy myself. Primping and preening in front of the mirrors in the stores gave me a real thrill and parading around for my wife while she all but clapped and whistled and cheered (a slight exaggeration) was a blast.

Finally we went into a smart little café and had a nice meal with a couple of glasses of wine. The waitress treated me as just another female customer. Yes, there is a difference between the way they treat men and women. Obviously they don’t flirt with us, but they do discuss the order in more detail and pay attention to our choices.

Eventually we headed home weighed down with all this stuff that we had bought for me. It was amazing, though. She had proved to me in one afternoon that I could pass as a woman in ordinary circumstances. Even though I had done that before, but without speaking to a soul, she had liberated me.

“I’m going to make you give me a fashion show,” she said, “but not tonight. Tonight I want to make love to you again. You make me so horny.”

She helped me take off my make-up and moisturized my face. She turned me to the glass.

“Look,” she said.

I looked. Even without the cosmetics I looked like a girl. The job she had done on my eyebrows had transformed my face and the collagen in my lips seemed to have doubled their size. Only a girl could have lips like that.

We showered together. She insisted that I kept my wig on and used a shower-cap to protect the adhesive. It was all I could do not to take her there and then, but I knew there were special things coming. We dried each other and she went and got two baby-doll nighties from her drawers. She gave me a lemon one and kept a black one for herself. I had worn a nightie before of course, but it’s special when you have someone to show it off to and with my breast-forms still in place my shape was so female.

I paraded around the bedroom in the floaty little chiffon garment, mentally picturing the day when my breasts would be all me and my bum and hips would be all curvy. And a vagina as a centre-piece, neat and smooth, waiting to be penetrated and filled, waking every morning to be my true self for the rest of my life, no more hiding in the shadows.

I just had to go to Cathy and give her the biggest hug and kiss ever. How lucky I was to have such a wonderful wife and lover. What I expected to be a calamity had become the best day of my life. My heart brimmed over and tears ran down my face, tears of pure joy, as I used my new lips on her, and then I pulled her into bed and we made love again. But, you know, the best part was lying in each other’s arms afterwards and cuddling and holding her precious face in my hands until we fell asleep.

I woke up before she did the next morning and did my business, luxuriating in a shower with lavender bath gel, making myself smell the way I always wanted to. I slipped into a silky dressing gown borrowed from her side of the wardrobe, a vibrant royal blue. I didn’t think she would mind.

I selected a brand new pair of mules bought yesterday, wriggling my toes into them. I brushed my hair and just couldn’t resist coating my wonderful new lips with that coral pink colour. I smiled at my reflection and saw that she liked me too. It’s so good to finally be comfortable in your skin after so many years of distaste.

Tripping oh so lightly down the stairs I made us coffee and poured juice, taking a tray back up to my still-sleeping darling. It’s so hard for me to describe just how wonderful I felt that morning, in love with her and in love with myself. I didn’t know there could be so much love in the world.

I put down the tray and stroked her cheek gently to wake her. As soon as she opened her eyes she came into my arms and embraced me.

“I can take this every morning,” she said. “You look so pretty and you smell so nice. Sit here and let me enjoy looking at you.”

So we sat there, me on the bed and her in it, and drank our juice and coffee, all the while gazing at each other like Juliet and Juliet.

Then she got going, a human dynamo. She showered and dressed and then she gave me a plain white bra and panty set, no stockings this morning, just a fairly demure summer dress with a wide boat neck and short sleeves, knee-length, full-skirted and patterned in black-and-white swirly spiral thingies. It was one of hers that I recognized and really liked. She finished my clothes with a pair of white sandals with a low heel.

“God, it’s going to be fun,” she said. “I’ve got all these clothes we can share. We’re just about the same size, you know, except for the shoes.”

Then she sort of shocked me by pulling off my wig, leaving my fairly short male hair-cut exposed. This was something I never wanted to see again, but she managed to comb and brush it into a style that looked vaguely unisex, if you had eyes like my mum’s that is. Either that or I looked like a dyke.

“It’s only for a little while, darling. When the extensions are done you’ll know it was worth it. All right, do your eyes and brows and that’s enough make-up for now. I think we might ask her to do a glam job on you when she’s finished and maybe we’ll go out tonight.”

“Cathy, please don’t make me go out tonight. I need time to get used to all this.”

“Tanya, dear. I won’t force you, but wait till you see yourself when it’s done, and I have a perfectly super little dress and some great shoes in mind for you. I don’t think you’ll be able to resist showing yourself off to the world.”

Soon after, the doorbell rang and two girls came in with loads of gear, trays and packets and boxes and hairdryers and things. Cathy greeted them and introduced me as the victim of what they were here to do. They looked me up and down.

“Whatever persuaded you to do THAT to your hair?” asked the one called Sandra.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” I sort of mumbled, shamefaced.

“OK, well, what do you want us to do with it?” This was Liz.

Cathy jumped in and said we had talked about it and what did they think about something a little shorter than shoulder-length, framing my face on both sides, with a fringe across the forehead, but short enough to leave my eyebrows exposed, and with maybe a bit of a curl under, oh, and we thought honey-blonde.

They walked around me and ran their fingers through my hair and allowed as how that would probably work quite well.

“What about the nails?” asked Liz, sort of turning up her nose at what I had. “How did you ever get them in this state?”

I improvised. “I was having all this trouble with them chipping and cracking while I was overseas and one day I just got frustrated and cut them right back.”

Cathy jumped in again.

“She used to keep them about half-an —inch long and they were very nice. Could you restore them to that in a nice shade of burgundy? Oh, and don’t miss the toes.”

I’d never given a thought to my toes.

“Do you think you could give her a nice evening face when you’ve finished with her hair? We might want to go out tonight.”

“No problem,” Sandra and Liz sort of leered at each other. They had us sussed as lezzies. Maybe they were of the same persuasion.

Then they started in on me. The next five hours were a mixture of heaven and hell.

To be continued.

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Comments

Saved for the time being

RAMI
I guess Cathy and Tanya were saved by Mom's blindness. They were saved for the time being, but will have to face the music at some point.

Tanya seems to be enjoying her transformation. I think that Cathy may be pushing things too fast, without preparing for potential problems they will face in explaining the disappearnce of Tom and in keeping the business going. But she is doing it with love, so that is great. Hopefully, the relationship and marriage will continue, and neither Tanya or Cathy will seek ouside interests.

RAMI

RAMI

Keep it up!

I really like this story. Especially the lack of antagonism, angst and hateable characters. It is a very nice breather, and works for me more than just fine! <_< >_> *tells in secret* I'm a sucker for happy endings. And this story has all the makings!

Faraway

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

You Surprised Me

I expected that the reveal would be a non event for Tanya's mom as it would turn out that she'd known about the dressing for a long time, but your way was soo much better (with mom thinking that she'd caught her daughter-in-law with a lesbian lover).

Thanks for continuing this (so far) delightful story.

What happened to Oz?

I thought that Cathy had been on her way to Oz, what happened to that? Very nice story if unbelieveable. :)

Khadija

Cathy Delayed Her Trip

She called the airline and her mom near the beginning of the 2nd part and delayed her trip for a month.

Your story is moving along

Your story is moving along smoothly and is marvelous to read. Thank you.

This is great!

I think you are doing a good job with this story, I like the transitioning pace and it sounds like both girls are having a great time.

LoL
Rita

Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)

LoL
Rita

Unexpected Escape

terrynaut's picture

You wriggled nicely out of the mum visit. Now let's see you wriggle nicely into something else ... like putting on a pair of very tight jeans.

This is a fun, sexy little romp. Just don't forget to finish it before the contest deadline. I want to see a completed story, please.

Thanks.

- Terry

Nice!

Aniother great chapter from a great author.

Keep it up Joanne, I'm looking forward to the next chapter!

Hugs
Sue

girls just wanna have fun!

laika's picture

This is a neat story, not a lot of conflict but a beautiful fantasy. Tho' icky old me, as a reader I'm a bit more fascinated by the mindfield (sic) situation of your other series, with Suzy & her two lovers, and hope to see more of them one o' these days. Tho' maybe I've spoke too soon about this one, I see there's a part 4 up now, gonna Flashdrive that take it home & read it. U cd just b getting warmed up. A nice resolution to the cliffhanger here that was clever and funny and made sense and wasn't a cheat. Hope there's a Cathy in your life Honey, or at least in your future...
---:) Laika

slow down, you move too fast!.......

....got to make the mornin' last! kickin' down the cobble stones, lookin' for fun and feelin' groovy!

Slow down, please; the anticipation of each step is part of the attraction! i'm loving the beginning of the salon experience..... and the removal of the wig was a lovely moment...... There is a time when a man dressed as a woman can be just that, and all the more sexy. As a male lesbian myself, I just adore the scene.
Love Ginger xx

oh, and another thing....

I JUST LOVE THE PHOTOGRAPH YOU CHOSE TO INTRODUCE THE STORY!
JUST LOVE IT!!
Love Ginger xx