Sitting Pretty
Lynda Shermer

I was earning a little extra pocket money by babysitting. These particular fraternal twins responded best, it seems, to the supposed extra authority of a male.

Beth and Sam were fraternal, but still quite similar.

The second time I sat, they had been messing about in the kitchen, and had two glasses. One held grape juice, the other pink lemonade.

Beth drank the grape juice, and Sam the pink lemonade, and for the rest of the evening, they pretended to be each other.

Next time I sat, they repeated this, but offered me a glass of pink lemonade. I drank it, but didn't change how I behaved.

"Why doesn't it effect you?," Sam asked.

"The mature person has elements of both genders in their behavior, so it doesn't affect me as much."

"Gender?"
"Boy ness and girl ness."

The time after, we repeated this. Clearly this game had staying power. So next time, I came prepared.

Talking to my girlfriend, I borrowed certain props.

Once again, they gave me a large glass of pink lemonade. I drank it down, and started rubbing my neck, "ah, that was good. Did you change the recipe?"

"No, same as always."

"Odd. I'll be back in a moment."

In the bathroom, I pulled my backpack from the hiding spot. Stripping, I pulled on my dance belt and panties, and panty hose, and a pushup bra. Then I put my outer clothing back on.

I went back out to the children, and we started a game of monopoly. After half an hour, we stopped for more to drink. Again, when I excused myself, I effected changes, this time, girls running shoes, mascara, and a silkier blouse that buttons on the other side.

By this time, the children were squirming; they kept stealing glances at me, and looking at each other sidelong.

I reversed the alterations, in reverse order of steps before the parents came home.

A day later, I got a call from Sharon, their mother.

"The kids adore you, and we have a major social event next weekend. I was wondering if we could hire you for next Saturday. There would be extra money in it for you."

"Sure. I have nothing pressing then."

Then I started thinking about the kids. I'd have to plan something special to hold their attention. I called my Talli, with an idea. She agreed to help.

Starting that evening, she helped me practice and learn.

On Saturday, I went over, said farewell to their parents, and suggested drinks. They looked at me weird.

This time, as the afternoon progressed, I gradually added more makeup, changed my mannerisms and speech, and at the ultimate step, changed to a skirt and casual heels, and put a wig over my hair with an Alice band. When I came out, they stood stock still with their mouths open.

"What, sillies?", I teased them in my higher pitch voice.

Just then, my phone rang. It was the children's mother. Their father had taken seriously ill at the event, and they were at the emergency room. He might have had a heart attack.

I promised to bring the children immediately. She spoke to them, and told them to go with me.

I'd transferred my usual pocket clutter to a purse as part of my outfit, so I grabbed that, and herded the children out to the car.

Arriving at the hospital, there was an attempt to block me. Thinking, I explained I was the sick man's niece, and that his children were in my care. They reluctantly let me in as far as the ICU waiting area.

Sharon was there. "Thank you for bringing the children," she said.

"Oh, no trouble."

"Oh, it would seem to be a little trouble, maybe. I see that the children are still playing that silly game. How should I address my niece, dear?"

"Oh, aunt Sharon, always kidding. As Alice, as always, of course."

She took the children in to see their father, who was unconscious, and then I took them home, where I distracted them with monopoly, as usual. When "aunt" Sharon came home to report their father had regained consciousness, and been diagnosed with chest pain but not a heart attack, and then fallen asleep, every one was quite cheered.

I left, and drove to Talli's place.

I explained the events of the day to her.

"How terrible," she said, "But that doesn't explain why you are still dressed up, my dear...?", she asked in leading tones.

"Alice, I guess. At least, that's what I told the hospital."

"Best to be consistent then, but still, why?"

"Well, I just seem to be better deal with the emotions like this. I don't know why." and started sobbing.

She hugged me. And when I was cried out, she held me.

And started nibbling on my earlobe. And then, squirmed around until I straddled her. Her hands wormed up under my blouse and cupped my bra cups. I could feel some pressure as she rubbed them. It felt good. No, it felt wonderful! I abandoned myself to the feeling on my chest, of my flattened pelvis pressed against hers, of my bra straps, of my pantyhose, the arches my shoes forced my feet into, the brush of hair on my shoulders, the taste of my lipstick, the scent of my powder.
In that instant, legs spread on my favorite person, I was a girl.

And I liked it. And I orgasmed. But it was nothing compared to our orgasms later, when we were both in nighties.

The next day, I got a call. "We're going out of town next Saturday, for some tests, and we wondered if you'd sit the kids again, but for the whole weekend. Only..."

"Yes?"

"Well, the kids wondered if Alice could sit for them."

"I suppose that could be arranged. It might be her farewell performance, though."

"That would be ok, I'm sure. It would give the kids closure, I guess."

I mentioned this to Talli. "You'll need a more serious look. Stilettos and tight jeans, and cleavage. Let's go all out, seeing as it might be their last meeting."

We went shopping again, and this time, afterwards, I had good breast forms, a corset, padding for my lower body, tight jeans, and three inch heels. My new wig was shoulder blade length.

I went over to my girlfriends place Friday afternoon, and we went to work. She attached my breast forms to my chest, and glued my lace wig to my scalp.

"there. Now, you're set for a month."

"A month? This is just for The weekend."

"I mean, it would hold for a month if we wanted it to."

This time, when they poured, we all had pink lemonade. Sam started acting girly.

About half an hour later, Sam started crying.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't do this as well as you do," he pouted.