by Charlotte Dickles
by Charlotte Dickles
'How would you like me to buy you lunch at the Kingsford Manor, in return for you doing me a favour?' It seemed an innocent enough question that his photographer friend Rosemary asked. She wanted him to pose wearing some of Charley's clothes so she could sell them on e-bay. There was only one problem.
There were five of us who fairly regularly met up. My wife, Sue, and her friend from her office, Rosemary; my mate from my office, Pete, and his wife, Janet; and then there was me, John. Every Saturday lunchtime, we'd meet in a local pub, and then probably arrange to see a film or a play over the course of the next week.
There were plenty of mild sexual undercurrents, although it was mostly platonic. From the way Janet smiled at me and winked when she told risque jokes, she obviously half-fancied me. Her clothes were always incredibly sexy - short skirts and low cut tops, which exposed a wonderful pair of tits - so who was that for if it wasn't for me?
It certainly wasn't for Pete who she mostly ignored, and he in turn appeared hardly to notice his wife. Instead, he was besotted with Rosemary, which was a shame since she was gay. He was one of those guys who could never accept that a woman might prefer another woman to him, and he saw it as a constant challenge to try to bed her.
I often wondered whether Sue might fancy Rosemary, but I figured that if there had been anything going on, she would never have introduced her into our group.
I really liked Rosemary. She was always pleasant and jolly, and pretty on the eye as well. With her openly declared sexuality, I could view her as a good female friend, without any of the normal complications with female friends, when I'm generally thinking about sex with them, as I was with Janet. Not actually doing it, you understand, since Sue and I have a great relationship, but just thinking about it.
As often happens with a group of five, we'd got into two conversational streams. There was Pete, Janet and I discussing which film we preferred to see midweek, arranging who was going to book the tickets and where we'd meet for a meal beforehand, whilst Sue and Rosemary were having their own little tete-a-tete. It was those little, intimate chats that tended to make me wonder about them, but again if they were at it, they'd hardly be so obvious. Anyway, Sue and I trust each other.
As usual, Pete and Janet would leave the group first, to get in a full afternoon of shopping, whilst Rosemary, Sue and I would always stay for another drink. As they were leaving, Pete and Janet said that they wouldn't be able to make next Saturday as they were going to a wedding. Since Sue was also planning to spend the weekend at her mother's, it appeared that next Saturday was definitely a no-no.
'I'll get them in,' Sue uncharacteristically said, as soon as Pete and Janet had departed, and shot off to the bar, whilst I breathed a sigh of relief.
You see, Sue and I were coming up to our tenth wedding anniversary, and she had been talking about taking our vows again and making it a big, formal occasion. Personally, I'd thought it was all a bit over the top for just ten years, so I had gently resisted until now. But with Pete and Janet talking about weddings, I thought it might start Sue off again.
'I have two questions to ask of you, John,' Rosemary said, breaking my reverie.
'Fire away,' I said, thinking that Sue had obviously put her up to something, which is why she had shot off to the bar, and wondering if it had anything to do with wedding vows.
'How tall are you?'
That seemed a safe question. 'Five, eleven. Why?'
'That's good; so, second question: How would you like me to buy you lunch at the Kingsford Manor, in return for you doing me a favour?'
I smiled. Set in the tiny village of Kingsford, about twenty miles away, the Kingsford Manor was generally regarded as one of the best hotels around. But I wondered just what kind of a favour I would need to do to earn that. 'Well the lunch sounds great. I'm not so certain about the favour.'
'I want to take some photographs of you.'
'Oh, right!' Rosemary was a photographer who worked with Sue, producing company publicity brochures. 'Does that mean it's all expenses paid?'
Rosemary shook her head. 'Afraid not. This is a personal thing for me - not the company. You remember me telling you about my cousin, Charley, who died a few months ago?'
'Well I've inherited Charley's personal effects, and I want to put some of the better quality clothes onto e-bay. Charley was five foot, ten, so I think you'll make an excellent model.'
Sue returned at that moment, bearing a tray of drinks, and we spent a few moments distributing them and taking first sips out of the glasses.
'Since Sue's going to be at her mother's next week, you and I could spend Saturday over at Charley's cottage in Kingsford, and get it all done.'
See the advantage of Rosemary's sexuality? Sue would never have trusted Janet and I together for the day, which is not surprising because I wouldn't have trusted the two of us together, either.
'Well,' I said. 'I suppose...'
'Hang on,' Sue said. 'Rosemary, have you told John about Charley?'
'Well,' Rosemary said, 'I've said that Charley was my cousin who died three months ago.'
'This is my husband, Rosemary,' Sue said. 'He would give me absolute hell - and quite right to - if I let him go off, without you telling him the important fact.'
Rosemary smiled and shrugged. 'Well, it's really no great shakes. It's simply that Charley's full name was Charlotte. Charley was a woman.'
I deliberately overacted agog. 'You mean,' I said, 'that you want me to model dresses and skirts?'
Rosemary smiled again. 'Sure. Like I say, it's really no great shakes. They're only clothes, but some of them are full length, so on any of my female friends they're going to drag along the ground. After all, it's not as though I'm asking you to change sex or anything.'
'Well don't you think,' I said, 'that customers on e-bay may not be attracted by a photograph of a man wearing a dress?'
'Sure,' Rosemary said, 'if that's how it was going to look. But I've got plenty of experience as a photographer in making things look like I want them to look, rather than as they really are. Sue will tell you how bloody good I am. With a bit of make-up, I could pass you off as a woman, easy - peasy.'
'You're kidding me. This is a joke, right?'
'Look,' Rosemary said. 'It's not a joke, and there's no way that anyone other than the three of us will know unless you tell them. You'll be unrecognisable in the photographs, and if you do still look like a man in spite of all my efforts, there's no way I'll want to use the photographs. Does that satisfy you?'
I shrugged. 'I suppose so.'
'You mean you'll do it?' Sue was incredulous.
'Rosemary's a friend I trust,' I said. 'She's said she won't tell anyone else, so I don't mind looking a bit of a prat in front of her. Anyway, I've been dying to go to the Kingsford Manor for ages. We can bring you back a doggy bag.'
I reckon that I played that just right. I don't think either of them appreciated the rush of excitement I experienced when I realised Rosemary wanted to dress me up as a woman. I've always found women's clothes so erotic, but on the occasions when I've rummaged through Sue's underwear and held it against me, I've felt both guilty and - well almost a pervert - as though there was something sexually wrong with me. Now, I could help out a good friend as well as exploring my fantasy a little. But I knew I had to play out the part of the reluctant helper very carefully, otherwise my innermost feelings might come under scrutiny.
We'd agreed that Rosemary would do the driving (allowing me to have a few pints at the Kingsford), so, Rosemary picked me up from my house the following Saturday. It took a few minutes for Rosemary to navigate the car out of our housing estate, and we didn't start talking until we were on the B-road heading towards Kingsford
'Great! It's going to be a nice, sunny day,' Rosemary said, pointing at the clear blue sky.
'I don't suppose we'll see much of it,' I said.
'Oh no!' Rosemary replied. 'I want to make the shots more interesting than plain, boring, old indoor photos set against a neutral screen. I want us to get outside a bit and get some action shots.'
Gulp! I had a sudden panic. 'What kind of action shots are you thinking of. You never said anything about going out in public.'
'Nothing to worry about,' Rosemary said. 'For example, Charley had some lovely sundresses. I thought we could go into the garden and get some shots there. That kind of thing.'
Another gulp. The enormity of what I was about to take on was suddenly hitting me. 'Is the garden secluded,' I asked.
'Oh yes,' she replied. 'The whole village is very quiet. It's like being in the middle of nowhere.'
I can't say I was totally reassured by her words, but I can say that they had served to send another blast of adrenaline coursing through my blood. It was one thing to get dressed as a woman in the privacy of Charley's house - quite another to go out into the garden with the consequent risk of exposure. So I gave a kind of non-committal, 'Hmm,' and was going to leave it at that, but Rosemary picked up my unease.
'Look, John,' she said. 'There's a good reason why I asked you rather than anyone else - Pete, for example. It's because you don't come out with this macho thing, like Pete does. You can almost see him banging his chest and doing the "Me Tarzan" bit. He could never handle what I'm asking you to do. You simply take things as they come, and I sensed that you'd be just right for this. I know you're a little nervous, and that's understandable, but simply look on it as a job. You do whatever I say, and I give you a great meal at the Kingsford Manor in return. And there's no reason for either of us to be embarrassed. Right?'
I smiled at her. 'Right,' I said, and I really did feel so much better after that. As she'd said, there was no reason why I should be embarrassed at doing whatever she asked me to.
Kingsford is one of those dream villages comprising pretty cottages with thatched roofs - the kind of cottages that, fifty years ago, would have been filled with poverty-racked yokels, trying to make a few shillings by ploughing fields or milking cows. Nowadays, even a tiny cottage must have been worth half a million, with the Chelsea tractors and Porsches parked outside giving a more objective display of their inhabitants wealth.
There was a triangular green in the centre of the village and Charley's house was directly facing onto it. To the one side of the green was the church, whilst at the opposite corner was the entrance to the old manor house, now with a discrete sign that read, 'The Kingsford Manor.'
'Nice cottage that Charley had,' I said.
'Very,' Rosemary said. 'Her sister inherits the cottage, but she's going to use it as a second home, so that's one more nail in the coffin of traditional village life.'
It was a constant source of irritation to locals in beauty spots across Britain that wealthy city dwellers bought up country homes and kept them empty for most of the time, depriving local shops, restaurants and pubs of the business they would otherwise have enjoyed from the residents. The villages become denuded of life and, as had patently happened here, it inevitably increased the price of housing until it was unaffordable to the locals.
'There are some packages in the boot,' Rosemary said as we got out of the car. 'Could you bring them in?'
So whilst Rosemary carefully took out her boxes of camera paraphernalia from the rear floor of the car, I went around to the boot and lifted out a large make-up box, and a few Jiffy bags and brown paper covered packages. I couldn't help wondering what was inside. The contents of the carrier bag from Boots The Chemist were no secret - I could see several boxes of Nair on the top and numerous creams and cosmetics underneath. I had another tremor of excitement which went down my spine, but fortunately Rosemary didn't appear to notice.
'Fortunately, I'd always admired Charley's lovely clothes,' Rosemary continued her previous conversation as we walked up to the front door, 'so she willed all the contents to me. It was silly really, as she knew they'd never fit me. On the other hand, being that tall she didn't have any other relatives whom her clothes would fit, so I guessed she thought that at least I'd make certain they were passed on.'
Once inside the house, Rosemary switched into her professional mode, as she carefully put down her camera boxes. 'Right,' she said. 'Let's go straight up to the bathroom and get you started with some hair remover. And before you start arguing that you don't need it, you don't want anyone to guess you're a man in the photographs. I'm the expert so just do as I say. OK?'
I smiled at her. 'I'd been about to say that, but you're absolutely right. From now on, I'm in your hands and I'll do whatever you ask without question. How's that?'
Another smile. 'Thanks John.'
So, Rosemary's straightforward position made the whole process of my conversion so much easier. I obediently followed her instructions, and in thirty minutes I had a totally hairless body. I was a bit startled when she produced a cut-throat razor and gave me a shave. Those things scare me shitless, even in my hands, never mind someone else's. But to give her credit, it was one of the best shaves I'd ever had, and afterwards, my chin was as smooth as a baby's bottom.
That's when Rosemary started pulling open the packages to reveal her pieces de resistance in my conversion, which she'd purchased off the internet. There was a vest-like, skin-coloured garment, with a pair of boobs pushing out the front, and another skin-coloured item which appeared to be the reverse of a panty girdle - it made my legs and bum fatter, not thinner. But at the crutch, it had pubic hair and the appearances of a slit, which I'd love to have explored more fully (but under Rosemary's watchful eye, could not).
It looked like there was going to be a problem in getting it on, since by that time I was sizing an enormous erection underneath the brief swimming trunks Rosemary had asked me to wear.
'No problem,' Rosemary said, without any hint of the embarrassment I was suffering. 'I have just the cure for that.'
I was quite surprised when she started reaching down towards my erection, as I thought she was going to give me a hand job, surely a taboo for someone of her sexuality. Still, I guessed she was simply treating it as professionally as everything else she was doing.
Instead, she suddenly waved the cut-throat in front of my face. 'This won't take long,' she said, moving it down towards my groin.
'Jesus, Rosemary!' I said, as my erection disappeared more quickly than her hand could travel. 'That's evil.'
'I know,' she said with a grin, 'but it certainly worked.'
Worked! Hell, my genitals had shrunk to the size of two peas and a green bean as I pulled off my trunks, prior to putting on the panty-girdle. But I had to give credit to Rosemary; by the time I had pulled that garment up my body to complement the breasts pushing out of the vest, I looked for all the world like a curvy woman.
Rosemary had managed to match my skin colour just right, and the joins between garment and skin looked simply like slight creases in the skin. The boobs looked incredibly realistic, as they joggled and quivered as I moved about, and so did my wobbling bottom.
'Only your head, face and nails to sort out now,' she said, reaching for her huge make-up box.
By ten-thirty, a tall woman faced me in the mirror. Rosemary had performed a miracle on my face, blending out the male features to perfection, and highlighting curves that weren't really there to produce a female face that was reasonably attractive. A dark-brown wig and long, bright-red nails totally completed the picture.
'Your face obviously looks different to Charley's,' Rosemary said, 'but your body is so similar. I'm certain you're going to fill her dresses to perfection.'
'You sound as though you knew her well,' I said, emphasising the ambiguity of the word "knew".
Rosemary grinned. 'You bet. Why do you think she left me all her lovely clothes?
'So,' she continued, 'let's start getting you dressed.'
I gave a philosophical shrug, but underneath I was glad we already had my prick under tight control, otherwise it would be rearing its ugly head again in no uncertain manner.
Rosemary picked up something white from the bed. 'Slip this on, first,' she said.
'Hang on,' I said. 'You told me my body was almost identical to Charley's. So why do I need to wear a corset?'
'Don't be stupid,' she grinned. 'like most women, Charley always worried about the size of her body. She generally wore a corset. So that means you're going to have to, as well. It's alright, with these fairly loose sundresses, I won't need to lace it up very tight.'
Again, I reckoned I'd played my reluctance just right. Fortunately, my prick was well and truly constrained by the false bum and hips I was wearing. Otherwise, I'd have been sporting a boner the size of my forearm. If Rosemary even had a hint at how horny it was making me feel, she'd have run a mile! If my prick had been loose, I'd probably have caught her!
Ten minutes later, I sheepishly followed Rosemary into the rear garden. She was right, it was completely secluded there and I did a little prancing around whilst Rosemary clicked away with her camera. I was wearing a pale yellow, low-cut sundress with shoestring straps, with matching yellow sandals and a yellow hat with a wide brim, and large yellow, clip-on earrings.
But I could sense that Rosemary was not overly satisfied, and asked what the matter was.
'It's my own fault,' she said. 'I suggested coming out here, but until the sun moves round, I can't get any decent shots. Let's go round to the front of the house.'
'The front!' I said. 'But I'll be in full view of everyone.'
'The village is almost deserted,' Rosemary said. 'Even if someone comes by, they'll only see two women together. You know that you really do look exactly like a woman.'
I hesitated. On the one hand, I really wanted to go round to the front and be a woman in public - on the other hand...
'I'm kinda scared that I'll be sussed. Suppose someone talks to us. As soon as I open my mouth they'll realise I'm a man.'
'Good point,' Rosemary said. 'Come back into the cottage. I've got something to resolve that problem.'
Inside, she made me swallow a pill. 'It's a voice-changer pill,' she said. 'It tightens the voice chords the same way as helium gas.'
As it went down my throat, I thought it was burning my voice chords away, but after the stinging had gone away, I was left with a squeaky voice.
'It sounds like a child's voice,' I squealed.
'Well, it certainly doesn't sound like a man's,' Rosemary said. 'I don't think you need worry about your voice anymore.'
'As long as I don't get stuck like this,' I shrilled.
We went out to the front of the cottage, and Rosemary was right on both counts. She was delighted with the pictorial scenes presented by the front of the cottage, with the small garden, which had gone wild with colour since the death of Charley; and there was no one around, apart from the occasional passer-by who would bade us 'Good Morning.' After the first had gone by, I plucked up courage and returned the greeting of the second person in my squeaky voice.
Within a few minutes, we were back in the house putting on another dress, shoes, hat and earrings.
'I think we need another prop,' Rosemary said, producing a bottle of wine. 'I hope you don't mind red, but it will go with this pink dress so much better than white.'
I indicated that a glass of red wine would be very acceptable, and of course, a couple of glasses of that helped me relax. Naturally, when I changed into the white dress, I had to also change my glass of wine, so by the time we'd finished with the sundresses, I had well and truly relaxed into my modelling role.
The next outfit was a smart suit with pastel pink pleated skirt and jacket, and a matching blouse.
'I need to tighten the corset a little for this,' Rosemary said, untying the strings, and then heaving on them as hard as she could.
'Oooh!' I squealed, although that was more for effect than because I found it uncomfortable.
As soon as I'd got into the suit, I realised what a dramatic improvement tightening the corset had made to my figure.
'Was it worth tightening it?' Rosemary queried.
'You bet,' I squeaked. 'I never realised what a fantastic figure I had.'
Rosemary laughed. 'That's just what Charley used to say, although she never convinced me to put one on. But that outfit really suits you. Do you feel good in it?'
'Well...' I thought a little, and added, 'Yes I do, actually. It seems to fit my figure very well, and it makes me feel more confident.'
'In that case,' Rosemary said, 'let's go to lunch.'
'Lunch?' I squealed. 'But I've only just got dressed in this, and you haven't taken any photographs, yet.'
'I'll take the camera with us to the Kingsford Manor. I'm certain there'll be some fabulous backgrounds there for us.'
I gasped. 'You mean, I go dressed? Like this?'
She smiled. 'It's really suitable for the Kingsford Manor. In any case, you could hardly have expected that, having taken about ninety minutes converting you, we convert you back to a man to go to lunch, then spend almost as much time again converting you this afternoon. That would be silly. You must have appreciated that we'd go dressed for our lunch.'
''Well, I...I mean, I never really thought about that. Can't we...' I realised I was garbling; that secretly, this was something which I would love to do if only I had the courage; and that I would have Rosemary by my side, telling me what to do. 'Lead the way, Rosemary,' I said. 'But don't you dare leave me for a minute.'
She didn't. She got shots of me in the entrance porch to the manor house, looking as though I owned the place. Then we went in and had our superb meal, during which she got some more shots. Finally, just after she had paid the bill, we went into the ladies and she produced yet another outfit from a carrier she'd brought with her - a beautiful evening gown - which I slipped into (more tightening of the corset) and she got some shots of me on the terrace, sipping the last of our wine.
When we at last got back to the cottage, it was almost three, and I was brimming with the excitement of it all. Having had well over two bottles of wine (Rosemary hardly drank anything whilst on the job), I was fairly tipsy as well.
'Are you ready for the final dress?' Rosemary asked.
'I didn't realise there was another one,' I shrilled. 'What's it like?'
'The sundresses this morning were just to get us warmed up, and you comfortable with being photographed,' Rosemary said. 'I may not even put them on e-bay. The suit and the gown should fetch a reasonable price, so I'll certainly put those on. But the next dress is my real raison d'etre for this photo shoot today. Come and see it.'
She led the way upstairs and into the spare bedroom and opened the closet. Inside was a beautiful, white wedding dress. It had a heart-shaped neckline cut so low it would leave little to the imagination, a tight, buttoned bodice, and then a beautiful full skirt, which tumbled down to the floor, with a short train to the rear.
''Oh Rosemary! That is gorgeous! I've never seen anything so wonderful.'
'Isn't it. I hate to sell it, but it's no good me keeping it. It's not as though it was my wedding dress.'
'You want me to wear this?' I squealed delightedly. 'Wow!'
But then I looked more closely. 'But I'll never get into that. Look at the size of the waist!'
Rosemary tilted her head a little. 'As I said before, you look virtually the same size as Charley, and she got into it, wearing just the same corset as you're wearing now. So, it's possible, but we do have to really tighten the corset. Are you game?'
Was I game? I, too, had worked out the sundresses wouldn't fetch much on e-bay but now I could fully understand why we'd started with them; and also why we'd started in the back garden and worked round to the front. I could also understand why she'd plied me with drink, and insisted that, in spite of being in such a magnificent restaurant for lunch, we'd only eaten sparsely. For she was leading up to getting me into this wonderful dress - probably the most expensive dress I had ever seen - certainly the most expensive I had ever worn in my life, or was ever likely to again.
I knew the answer to the next question before I'd even asked it. 'And just where,' I shrilled, 'are you intending to take the photographs?'
I could tell from the look in her eyes that she knew that I knew, and she also knew that I couldn't resist that dress. 'I thought we'd start with the side gate here and then move onto the lych-gate at the church. Afterwards, at the church door. What do you say?'
I deliberately turned my back on her. 'Start tightening the corset,' I giggled.
We both knew that Rosemary was taking classical photographs, ones that would display the gorgeous wedding gown to its very best, ones that, were I really the bride, I would treasure probably long after my marriage had broken up! The sun was shining from just the right direction, at just the right height, the flowers in the churchyard were all in bloom, and what was really good was that we were on our own, with no one to gawp at a bride without any guests.
I was even glad that Rosemary had tricked me into wearing such wonderful earrings - large, dangling, and covered in sparkling diamante. As soon as she showed them to me, I knew they would complement the dress to perfection, and I never thought to wonder why she even had to ask. Not until I had agreed, and she used a needle to pierce my left ear and then quickly slipped the earring into place. After I'd screeched a bit and calmed down, it seemed pointless to prevent her repeating the operation with the right ear. But now, I knew those earrings were essential to complete those pictures of absolute perfection.
Then, it all went pear-shaped.
'Oh, you're here at last,' a familiar voice said, from just inside the church door.
My heart dropped into my stomach. I turned to see Pete staring at me.
'Every one of your friends and relations are here. We've been waiting for you for ages.'
Of course, it all became clear, now. Our wedding anniversary was next week. Clearly Sue had set up a surprise service-with-a-difference to celebrate our wedding vows; a service where the joke would be on me. Had I not been so totally smitten with being a woman, it might have been a funny joke - might have been, although I'm one of those people who hate surprise parties. But today had been something of a turning point in my life. I had enjoyed being a woman.
I turned hopelessly towards Rosemary, but she'd gone, and left me in the lurch, so I turned back to Pete. 'I'm sorry, I can't do it,' I squeaked.
'Of course you must do it,' he said. 'The vicar's waiting. Come along.'
With that, he interlinked his arm with mine and gave me a tug that, on my heels, unbalanced me. It was a case of walking with him or toppling over onto the ground. He was at least six feet, two inches high, and built like a brick shithouse. There was no way that, once we'd started walking through that door together, I could do anything but trot beside him.
As we entered the vestibule, the organist saw us, and the church reverberated to the sound of the Bridal March, played as loudly as possible.
Until now, I'd been elated by my wonderful clothes, my spiky stiletto heels, my squeaky voice, but one of the major problems of having all three is your inability to take action. I'd managed fine on the heels all day - after all, they were only an inch high - but the narrowness of the heel ensured I was tottering about and in no position to take an immoveable stance. My squeaky voice meant I couldn't even be heard above the noise of the organ. Then I caught sight of the groom.
I'd imagined that Sue would be there, dressed in a black suit with top hat, with a huge grin on her face. The groom was certainly wearing a black suit and clutching a top hat, but that was the only similarity. Indeed, the look on his face, as he turned around and stared at me, contained as much horror as surely my own must have done.
I realised that I recognised him; it was Perry from Accounts - the guy who was supposed to be screwing the boss's daughter.
Well, that did it for me. It was one thing to be totally embarrassed in front of my mates, but I certainly had no intention of being married to Perry. I think that Pete noticed the look on Perry's face at that moment and realised that all was not well, for he faltered in his stride. That was just the opportunity I needed, for I didn't falter at all - I simply drove my heel down hard onto Pete's instep.
'Oh! Fuck me!' he bellowed at the top of his voice, which even the organist heard and the Bridal March came to an abrupt halt. Pete dropped down low over his foot, I think with a view to prevent the blood from escaping, or even of kissing it better.
I decided not to wait around to see which was more appropriate. I picked up my skirts, turned tail and went as fast as my tottering heels would take me back up the aisle. It was unfortunate that, just as I was about to run through into the vestibule, another bride and her escort were coming the other way. With our wide-tiered dresses, we kind of bounced off each other, but my momentum sent me charging head first into the escort, my forehead bounced off his nose with a crack. He collapsed backwards onto the floor, blood starting to dribble out of his nose.
'Who the fuck are you?' the other bride said.
'Perry offered me first refusal for today,' I shrilled. 'But you're welcome to him. He's simply not up to giving me the kind of sex I need.'
With that less than brilliant repartee, I dashed outside
As I hurried down the path to the lych-gate, Rosemary fell into step beside me.
'Where did you get to?' I asked. 'I thought you'd abandoned me.'
'Pete only knows me because of you two,' she replied. 'I thought that if he simply saw a random bride, he wouldn't assume that he knew you. But if he saw me, he'd start looking around for you and Sue. I didn't want to give him any ideas.'
I had to admit her logic was faultless. What's more, I had escaped what had appeared an inevitable disclosure without problem - well, on my part anyway - the growing howls, yells and shouts from the church indicated that I had left one or two problems behind.
I hadn't realised just how quickly a girl could move in heels. I found out that day. Before the mob had even spilled out into the churchyard, we were inside Charley's cottage watching from the windows.
'I hope I haven't permanently damaged the marriage,' I squeaked.
'It will have bigger hurdles than that to face over the course of a few years,' Rosemary said. 'If a little incident like that causes it to fail before they're married, it's probably better they didn't get married at all.'
'You mean,' I squeaked, 'it was like a social service?'
Rosemary looked at me and started to giggle, and within seconds, we were both laughing helplessly. I guess, for me, it was the relief from the stress of the last few minutes, combined with the high I had been on all day long.
'Once she'd calmed down, Rosemary said, 'I've completed all the shots I need for e-bay.'
Then, seeing the look of disappointment on my face, she added, 'But there's no need for us to dash off straightaway. Why don't you change into one of your sundresses and we'll go sit in the back garden and have a glass of wine?'
Now that the sun had moved around, the rear garden was delightful to sit in. There was a little gazebo in the one corner, and we took our glasses over and sat inside it, and chatted about the day - the clothes I had worn, the meal at the Kingsford Manor, and the shots Rosemary had taken. She showed me on the camera display several of those she considered the best. They certainly looked fantastic, and who would have guessed that the woman wearing all those dresses was me?
'Thanks for everything,' Rosemary said. 'I really owe you. And it hasn't been too bad, has it?'
'You know it hasn't,' I shrilled. 'It's been incredibly exhilarating. Even having to break off my wedding service was pretty good - in retrospect.'
'I think you should tell Sue about it all,' she said.
'Well she knows what we're doing,' I shrieked, rather alarmed at what she might be indicating.
'You know what I mean,' she said. 'I mean you should tell her how exciting you found dressing up as a woman.'
I shrugged. 'You noticed. I thought I'd kept it pretty close.'
'If you call that keeping it close,' she said, 'I should hate to see you when you're being obvious. But there is nothing to be ashamed of in enjoying being a woman.'
I shook my head. 'Not if you are a woman, no. But there is if you're a man. It's like a perversion.'
'It's certainly different from accepted practice, yes. But homosexuality was considered the same forty years ago; now it's respectable. The act hasn't changed - only people's attitudes.'
'So what do you think Sue's attitude would be if I told her?' I nervously squeaked.
'Hi Rosemary. Hi John.'
The voice came from behind and I'd swivelled around and squeaked out, 'Hi,' long before I'd thought that I shouldn't have responded to being called John.
'Hello, Janet,' Rosemary said. She looked over Janet's shoulder. 'Are you on your own?'
'It's alright,' Janet said with a smile. 'I knew you wouldn't want Pete here. I've left him chatting up the bridesmaids. I said I had a friend called Rosie who lived here.
'You make a wonderful bride,' she continued turning to me. 'I almost wet myself with laughter when I saw Pete drag you into the church, and the organist started playing the Bridal March.'
'Thanks,' I shrieked, 'although it didn't appear so funny at the time.'
'It certainly didn't to Perry', Janet said. 'that's what made it all the more enjoyable. I really hate that slimy toad.'
'But you recognised me straightaway,' I shrilled. 'Surely I wasn't that obvious?'
'I heard what Rosemary was saying to Sue when they were talking last week,' Janet said. 'I knew Charley was a woman who lived in this village, so when Pete dragged the wrong bride in from the street, who was exceptionally tall for a woman, it didn't take much to put two and two together.
'Did Perry get married in the end,' Rosemary asked.
'Yes,' Janet said. 'We're going over to the Kingsford Manor now for the reception. I thought I'd pop over here first and see how everything went.' She turned to face the cottage, and added, 'This is certainly a lovely cottage, but it's not yours, is it? Are you going to be able to make use of it?'
'I'm sure I could if I wanted,' Rosemary said. 'Charley's sister now owns it, although she won't be living in it much. But I'm not terribly keen on living in a village.'
'It would be handy as a secret love nest,' Janet said.
'Well I'm not married so I don't need a secret love nest,' Rosemary replied.
'No, but I do,' Janet said.
I gave a little gulp, then. It was fine having a little risque conversation with Janet, but I really didn't want to get involved in a steamy affair. The problem was, I knew I wouldn't be able to say no.
'Come and have a look inside,' Rosemary said. Then, obviously recognising my discomfort, she turned to me and added, 'You've seen it already and you look quite comfortable out here. Help yourself to another glass of wine whilst I show Janet around.'
She didn't quite wink at me, but she'd obviously guessed my concern and was manipulating things so I remained pure - well, you know what I mean. So, Rosemary and Janet disappeared inside the house and I filled up my glass and enjoyed the sunshine.
It was only when I finished my glass of wine and was considering refilling it again that I realised the girls had been inside the cottage for ages. I guessed that, before taking another glass for myself, I should offer them one, so I wandered over to the open window, with a view to giving the girls a shout.
After being in the bright sunshine, it looked dark inside, but I could just make out a paleness on the floor that looked like... As my eyes became accustomed, I realised that my guess had been right: two rounded breasts topped by erect nipples!
The woman was lying on her back on the floor with her blonde head towards me, naked from the waist up, but with her long skirt still covering her lower half. The skirt bulged over her knees, which were spread wide apart. In fact, I realised that her knees alone could not account for the dress bulging up in the air as much as it did, and finally, I could make out Rosemary's bottom emerging from the bottom of the skirt.
'Oh, yes,' Janet whispered. 'Oh yes!'
I stood transfixed for a moment, until a voice behind me said, 'Hello. You must be Rosie. I'm looking for my wife, Janet. Is she around?'
I jumped, and then slowly turned, trying to collect my feelings and think of something to say. Fortunately, I didn't have to.
'Hell, you're the Runaway Bride!' Pete said. 'Janet didn't say she knew you.'
'Maybe she wanted to avoid me being crucified,' I squawked. I moved towards him, so that he didn't come any closer to the window.
'You being crucified?' Pete said. 'The problem was they all wanted to crucify me for dragging in a random bride, without checking who you were before I took action. I hope I didn't mess up your big day.'
'It wasn't my big day,' I squeaked. 'I was simply modelling a dress for a friend to take photographs.'
'Oh! You're a model,' he said. 'I thought you were rather good looking.'
Who did he think he was fooling? Me? Good looking? He must have thought I was the most naive girl in the world to fall for that one. Still, it did make me feel rather good, and I think I may have smirked slightly before saying, 'I'm no model, but thanks for the compliment. My name's not Rosie either - I'm Jenny.' (The name came on the spur of the moment - my first girlfriend was a Jenny.)
'Oh.' Pete looked confused. 'Well where are Janet and Rosie?'
'They're inside looking at... dress material,' I improvised. Rosemary certainly had been looking at dress material, but I suspected that by now Janet was not wearing any.
'Well I guess that means,' he said, 'that there's just time for a kiss for the bride.'
Suddenly, I was in his arms, off-balanced by his sudden tackle, and completely relying on him to prevent me falling flat on my back. His lips were on mine, and his tongue was inside my mouth.
And it felt great!
I knew I should have been punching him in the throat, or kneeing him in the goolies, but I felt helpless to do anything. All I could do was to hang onto him tightly, and open my mouth wider. But if I was hanging onto him so tightly, how come my one hand could slide down the front of his trousers to feel his bollocks through the material, and then cup them in my hand, and very, very gently squeeze them. Then, my hand drifted upwards, and started stroking his shaft.
'We're not interrupting anything, are we?'
Janet's voice cut dryly through our kiss and suddenly I was on my feet again, and Pete was withdrawing.
'No, darling,' he said. 'Just giving the bride a little kiss for tradition's sake.'
'Your tradition,' Janet said, 'is to try to shag anything in a skirt.'
I gave her a sharp glance - after all, she appeared to have a similar tradition - and she had the grace to look bashful.
'I suppose you've come to drag me to the reception,' she said, 'and force champagne down my throat. Come on then.'
The two of them disappeared around the side of the house, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Thanks for covering up for us,' Rosemary said, coming out of the house, holding a cordless phone. 'Janet said she'd noticed you come to the window and look in, which I think turned her on even more.'
I shrugged. 'No problem.'
'But did you think it a problem when Pete turned his attention to you? My impression was that you were enjoying it rather more than you would expect of a heterosexual male, even if dressed as a woman.'
I shrugged again. 'I really don't know Rosemary. There were a whirlwind of emotions passing though me - one part telling me it was wrong, and the other telling me it was great.'
She nodded. 'That's what I thought. That's why I rang Sue. After all, I am responsible for what happens to you today.'
'You rang Sue? What did you tell her?'
She smiled. 'Only that I thought you'd be more than willing to take your wedding vows again, except that I reckoned you'd like to make it a more personal occasion - just for the two of you.'
'Is that my penance,' I asked.
'I don't know about that,' Rosemary said. 'I offered to lend my wedding dress for the occasion.'
'That's a lovely offer, Rosemary,' I responded, but then a thought struck me. 'But Sue is only five feet, six inches; that dress will be far too long for her.'
She smiled. 'Did I suggest that Sue would be wearing it? Sue thought it was a lovely idea - her going as the groom and you as the bride. What do you think?'
I felt myself flushing with the rush of excitement that went through me.
'That sounds quite good, actually,' I said.
'In that case,' Rosemary said, 'it's my turn to kiss the bride. And don't you dare mention a word to Sue about this.'
On our second honeymoon, Sue had orgasms like she'd never had before. She didn't know it, but she had Rosemary to thank for that bit of schooling.
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