That Weekend Part 3

"Joan," I said.  "You talk as if you were still going away with
him.  But you know now I've been faithful to you all along!  So
shouldn't you cancel that plan?  It's all been a terrible
misunderstanding, but please, can't we pick up and resume with what
we have now that we both know the truth?"

There came a very long pause.  The waiter came by to offer more
coffee.  I remembered that Tim was waiting uneasily for her outside
in the parking area, and that she knew it.  So I felt vastly
relieved when she signalled that she'd like to have her cup
refilled.  She intended to stay, at least for a little while
longer.

That's why her next words were all the more shocking.  "I could
stay with you now, Sherry.  And I do intend to pick up and resume
with you after this weekend.  That's why I'm so terribly sorry to
have to tell you this.  Sherry, I don't want to stay with you this
weekend.  Or any other weekend when there's some buff guy asking me
to spend it with him.  We won't ever have the same relationship
again, you and I.  Not since you finally confessed to me what you
are and what you do."

She then actually leaned across the table and took my hands in
hers!  Both of them!

"Understand me, sweet girl, I love you and I want to bear your
children and all, when we decide to do it, and you're a marvelous
companion, the one person I chose to live with for life and I mean
to live with for life.  But look at you now!  You aren't the man I
married.  Maybe you never were.  You're more a woman than a man. 
There IS another woman in your life, your alternative self, and I
don't think she should be suppressed any longer.  I think she
should be sustained, encouraged, made a regular part of your life. 
And I want to make sure she is.  I want to help her in every way I
can.  I've been helping, you can't begin to guess how many ways. 
But I also need a man in my life who's all man, not one or the
other depending.  I realized that when I called Tim this afternoon,
after you confessed yourself to me, and he offered to help you feel
like a woman, he agreed to be there when you came down from Kara's
examination room with your proud new tits blazoned across your
chest, ready to suck your very first cock and suckle your very
first lover.  And he was there for you.  For us.  I told him he
should meet us here so I could see the two of you together, so I
could be quite sure of myself when I went off with him.  As I am. 
Honey, I'm going with Tim in a few more minutes and I won't be home
until late Sunday night.  Please try to understand and be
accepting, just as I am of you.  I'm leaving you our car.  Your
keys are in your purse, along with your tampons and condoms.  Use
them all as you will, and when you get home, please, do feel free
to look through my closet and see which of my dresses you'd like to
share.  There's nothing like a new dress to cheer a girl up when
she's feeling alone or left out.  All of mine are all yours now if
you want them.  Isn't that the offer you've always dreamed of?  Oh,
we're going to have such fun, now that I know all about you, and
you know so much more about yourself!  You'll see!  You'll love it,
honey!"  

And she stood up, ready to leave me and join Tim.

"Joanie!"  I cried out.  I was despairing.  Something in my voice
reached her, and she sat down again and again took my hands in
hers.

"Sweetheart!  Sweetheart!  You aren't losing me, that won't ever
happen, I just told you that!  Tim isn't your rival!  He's our
lover!  He has been for some time!  Remember that night a few weeks
ago when you were kissing me down below and found I was sopping
wet, not just moist as usual?  And you told me I tasted delicious? 
That wasn't me, it was Tim!  Tim!  The same man you sucked off a
few hours ago, remember?  Didn't the flavor seem familiar?   He
isn't mine, baby, he's ours!"

I gripped her hands, trying to suppress sobs.  She was right, but
something seemed terribly wrong, somehow.

"Please, understand this!"  Joan went on.  "Imagine how shocked I
was this afternoon to find you haven't been unfaithful, that all
those clothes in our closet were yours!  That I've been the
unfaithful partner in our marriage, not you!  Well, I had to make
it up to you!  And I think I have.  I told Tim, and he agreed to
help me help you discover what you really are, and now you're well
on your way to fulfilling that whole range of desires, to feeling
like a woman, all with my complete permission.  Isn't that what you
didn't dare ask for previously?"

She paused.  I nodded.  She was right.  I had wanted it, and now I
had it.  But at what a cost! 

"And remember, you've been unfaithful to me with Tim too, now. 
You've pleasured him, and let him pleasure you.  He's our lover,
not just mine but yours too.  Even more, he thinks you're cute, and
he loved the way you sucked his cock, and he wants to help you
complete your womanhood by using your rear as a pussy.  He really
does want to be the first man to cum inside you there.  Sherry, I
can assure you, he'll feel marvelous when he's inside you, gentle
yet firm and ... well you'll see.  He promises it will be a
ravishing evening you'll never forget."  

I didn't know why, but I had mixed feelings about that.  I wanted
it yet I didn't.  Joan explained it on her next sentence.  She
seemed to know more about me than I did.

"You said you weren't gay, and I believe you, but that was the man
in you talking.  The woman in you isn't gay either, I bet.  I bet
she wants a man.  Sherry, when Tim and I get back I'll have him
call you, and before you know it there'll be a lovely, long, thick,
meaty prick moving in and out of you, maybe in the throes of
passion slamming in and out of you with your buttocks cushioning
the blows.  As a girl's rear should."

She stood up.  "Honey, Tim's waiting.  You go home, and I'll join
you when I can.  Meanwhile, do try on whatever I have in my closet
that might fit you.  Enjoy them.  You're welcome to any or all.  Be
sure especially to try on my gray suit, it was made for a figure
like yours.  It impresses all of my clients -- why not yours too?" 


And she was gone.  I sat there a moment.

When I hailed the waiter to pay the bill, I found that Tim had
already covered it.  Payment to me for the use of my wife?  The use
of my mouth and tits?  Despite Joan's reassurances, I began to feel
bitter.  This morning I'd been merely a married man and a secret
cross-dresser.  Now I was a cuckold whose wife was setting him up
to live as a woman with a woman's separate sex life.  Did I want
to?  Live as a woman all the time?  The prospect was exciting, but
I had mixed feelings about it.  Especially about the sex part.  Men
simply didn't look attractive to me!  Women looked attractive!

I suddenly felt alone and vulnerable, and realized that I was a man
wearing a dress and lipstick out in public for the first time by
himself.  No, I had to feel I was a woman!  Very carefully I rose,
left the restaurant, retrieved our car, and despite my high heels
I managed to drive home.

Once there it was easier, more familiar.  I found I was reluctant
to remove my make-up and change back into men's gear.  Not
surprisingly.  So I slowly picked up all my women's clothing strewn
all over the floor and the bed, and I hung them away carefully in
my closet, and placed the smaller items neatly folded into a drawer
in my own bureau.  No need to hide them any longer.  They were now
an acceptable feature of my life with Joan, for the indefinite
future.  That was a plus, whatever the minuses.  I grew more and
more eager to examine Joan's closet, now that I had her permission
to wear anything in it.  But I delayed.  It was a lot like opening
a box of candy, or a treasure chest -- the anticipation was
delicious, and made me light-headed.  Finally, I allowed myself.

Her gray suit first, as she'd recommended -- my slip would do for
it as it had for my dress, and it didn't require a blouse.  The
skirt was mid-thigh yet somehow proper, a sexy businesswoman's, and
the jacket was form-fit, nipped in the waist, very fetching.  My
plump new breasts filled it out above, and the nubbins of my
enlarged nipples were decorously covered by its broad lapels.  It
felt ... good to be wearing it.  Cute yet efficient.  Cheery.  I
loved it, it was me!  I decided to add a gold pendant for effect.

Then while raising my arms to attach the chain behind my neck, I
heard and felt a crinkle from the jacket's inner pocket.  It turned
out to be a stiff, folded piece of paper, a receipt for an hotel
room from some overnight business trip Joan must have taken
...let's see ... eight months ago.  Joan did sometimes travel on
company business, and I supposed she'd forgotten to turn this bill
in for reimbursement.  Yet strangely, on the back I found a
hand-written note -- "The best ever, Joanie!  Again in two weeks? 
This time all night?  Plead out-of-town business or something, and
call me!"  A phone number followed.

Odd.  I looked again.  The receipted bill was from the Sheraton
Regal, one of our better downtown hotels.  And the phone number was
also local.  On a whim, I went to the family computer to use the
reverse phone book and I found that the number belonged to a
William Carr, one of the Vice-Presidents in Joanie's firm.

Was this something I should question Joan about?  It did look like
an assignation.  It hardly looked like anything else.  It told me
that eight months ago Joan had spent time in a downtown hotel with
a business associate, and more than once.  This was long before
she'd found my clothes, decided that I'd been unfaithful, and
decided to treat me accordingly.  By a half-year or more.  What was
this?

I opened her e-mail file for eight months ago to look for clues,
especially to see if she'd gone out of town on business during that
week or had only seemed to go out of town.  But I was distracted
almost at once by two folders, one called "Tim Work" and the other
"Tim, Mmmm!" I opened "Tim, Mmmm!" and the bottom fell out of my
life.

The e-mails were all recent, all from the last few months.  There
were weeks of short messages like "Thursday lunch?  Plan on two
hours, I'll make the reservation, and they'll seem like two
minutes!" from Tim, and "That was great, lover!  I still feel
stretched out and deeply, deeply satisfied!" from Joan.  Not
surprising in itself, Joan had already told me she'd begun an
affair with Tim back then, rather proudly at that.  But just last
week the messages grew longer.



From: Tim

Baby doll, we must get together for the whole coming weekend! 
There's this beautiful vacation resort called Mountainview Lodge a
few hours from here where we can make love non-stop, on foam and
water-beds, saunas and hot tubs, wherever.  I'm dying to go
galloping with you, me mounted on the horse and you facing me
mounted astride my lap -- you'll love it, having two strong animals
between your thighs at the same time, and my meat galloping inside
you!  And every night I'll lick cream out of your pussy until my
tummy bursts!  Can't you ditch that faggot husband of yours for
two, maybe three days?  Lock him in a closet or something?  That's
where he spends his days anyhow whenever you're not in the house,
from what you tell me."

From: Joan

The coast is clear, baby!  He'll be away on business this week
through early next week. The whole weekend's ours!   Come over here
Thursday and spend the night.  Warm up his side of the bed for me,
so I'll know what someone who's all man feels like in that space
for once.  Then Friday we'll leave from my place to go to this
resort of yours.  And then, and then ...!"   

From: Tim

In your house, in your bed?  Sweetie, I love it, but isn't that a
little risky?  I mean, you once told me he comes home early
sometimes.  You don't want to force any of this into the open yet,
do you?"

From: Joan

Why not?  Jerry and I each have our secret lives as women.  If he
finds out that I know about his and he feels embarrassed, I'll
reward him.  Kara has this great new breast augmentation procedure,
women love the way their nipples feel afterward, and their men love
it too because their women go into outer space whenever they're
touched.  I've thought of getting it for me.  But I think first for
Jerry?  I can tell from all those bras stashed in the closet that
he's hooked on having boobs.  I'll get him some delicious real
ones, and then he can feel free to look like a woman for life, not
just when I'm not looking.  And to really feel like one!  Then once
he's committed I can feel free to take on any men anywhere whenever
I feel like it, not just when he doesn't know.  And meanwhile I can
feel quite sure of him.  Because I do want to keep him.  I'm sure
no man with breasts will ever go wandering into other women's beds
to try to even the score with wives who wander into other men's
beds.  

You know, maybe it's time to play the transvestite card?  Let him
know I know?  I do love him, even though he isn't much of a man. 
I do want to spend my life with him, and I want him to be happy. 
Maybe he'd be happier if he went all the way as a woman?  Maybe I
should give him just a little push in that direction, and see if he
tumbles?

I tell you what, Tim.  If he comes back early, that'll be when. 
He's always noisy, coming into the house, especially with luggage,
so if it's while we're still there we'll have plenty of warning. 
You can duck out the back, and then I'll put him on the defensive. 
I'll scatter his dresses and panties around and tell him I think
they're another woman's.  It's a ridiculous idea, another woman
leaving a whole wardrobe packed up in a married man's house, but I
know the sweet dear, he'll never realize it, he'll get all
flustered and over-eager to prove to me that they're his.  Then
when he's 'fessed up and knows that I know he's a crossdresser,
I'll get him all dressed up and then charm him into Kara's clinic
and get him all boobed up.  And that'll be that.  I'll break it to
him by degrees that you and I have been together as lovers for a
long time, and then later on that there were others before you. 
And that there will be others after you.  Maybe he'll accept that
as inevitable?  I'll can always offer to share my whole wardrobe
with him, accept him as he is completely, maybe that'll help
persuade him to accept me the way I am?  I can offer to share my
lovers too.  How about you for openers? [giggle]"  

From: Tim 

He's your husband, and it's your marriage, honey.  Maybe I can
help.  Should I make some moves on him myself, offer to complete
whatever part of him thinks he's a woman who needs a man?  Would he
be willing to suck my cock do you think?  Could he do it better
than you do it?  I wouldn't mind setting up a competition between
you two. ;-)  

From: Joan 

How sweet of you to offer.  We'll see.  You may be right though. 
Give him a taste of your cock first.  It's such a marvelous cock,
how can anyone resist it?  Then when he's a confirmed cocksucker
and no man at all it'll be easier to keep him that way.  

I do want to keep him away from women.  Especially available women
like the ones who hang out at lesbian pickup bars like "Bosom
Buddies," the kind who just love effeminate men and are eager to
help them feel like women, who want to turn them into women and
welcome them into their sisterhood, and so on.  You know, those sex
bars where every drink is a hormone cocktail, where the women use
the men up and then send them home feminized to their wives.  He'd
love to bed down with a woman like that, especially once she plays
with those new nipples of his.  I'm no competition that way, I'd be
afraid I'd lose him.  You're right, it's better for us to break him
into being gay.  Let him learn to enjoy sucking on you, then on
other guys, let's keep him too busy servicing men to think about
women.

From: Tim

Sounds like a plan.  If he comes home early this week, fine.  If
not, we'll nail him some other time.  Get the scenario set up for
fast triggering.  Joanie sweetheart, do you realize that now we can
spend day after day in that bed of yours until he finally tumbles
to what's going down?  Then very likely the three of us will then
live happily ever after in that same bed!  

So, see you Thursday night at your place.  I can hardly wait.  Wait
for me in that ice-blue nightgown I love.  And full make-up, that
turns me on like nothing else.  We'll fuck all night, and then
Friday afternoon we'll drive to the Mountainview Lodge.  I'll make
the reservations.

 From Joan:  

You're on!  The weekend's on regardless!



I turned off the computer, appalled, and for the first time really
angry!  Furious!  Outraged!  What deceit!  I'd been set up!  From
the beginning!  That's why I found her in her nightgown when I came
home, her eye make-up smudged and the back door open!  She wasn't
sobbing on the bed, she was fucking!  She was well meaning and all,
but this proved it, she wanted it all her way!  Will this be my
life if I stay with her?  Borrowing her dresses and sucking her
lovers' cocks hard and slick enough to enter her, over and over?  

I tore off her gray suit and threw it on the floor, and marched up
and down the room in my slip, fuming, beside myself with
indignation!  Finally I sat down on the bed and tried to think more
rationally about all this, what was to be done.  Should I strip
down all the way and put on my men's clothes and walk out on her? 
Kara had warned me not to take off the bra for another day or two,
not until the implants set.  I might end up disfigured.  

At least I was coming out of this with tits, that's something, I
heard myself thinking.  And they're the kind that feel great! 
Experimentally I touched my nipple tips.  OH GOD!  I was gone!  It
was glorious!  I lay back on the bed and then for maybe a half-hour
I played with myself in an enchanted daydream, in sheer delight,
tickling and caressing and kneading those swollen nubs until I
realized that I'd come twice and had better change my panties. 
Yes, they were decidedly a plus.  I'd never give them up, never!

But didn't they require women's clothes to fit?  At least blouses? 
I began going through Joan's wardrobe more systematically, trying
on dresses and blouses and silken shirts, all sorts of marvelous
goodies, looking for outfits that flattered my new bust, until my
sense of betrayal had gradually faded out altogether.  No more
hiding out, I realized.  If I stay here Joan and I can be
girlfriends as well as husband and wife.  Was I willing to pay that
price?

Think of the rewards.  Joan had such gorgeous clothes!  And think
of the shopping, the dining out, all the girl-things we could do
together.

I did owe her.  She'd deceived me, but she has enlarged my world as
a woman, I was thinking.  I was no longer afraid to go out and
enjoy myself as only a woman can.  Though not with men.  Not with
just any men, anyhow.  With other women, yes!  And she'd
unwittingly told me what kinds of women in those e-mails, and where
to find them!

I carefully replaced that hotel invoice in the gray suit and hung
it back in the closet.  Joan would never know I'd found out about
her scheming, her duplicity.  But I knew about it, so I felt free
to do anything, with or without her knowledge or approval. 
Beginning tonight!  Determinedly I took down a sleek crimson beaded
evening dress with a slit most of the way to my waist, and some
long, long net stockings, and a garter belt, and I found some high,
high heels that miraculously fit me perfectly.  What was the name
of that place she'd mentioned where lesbian women love to meet men
just like me?  Women who love men who love being women?  Well,
since she was off with a man, I'd go off with a woman with a clear
conscience!  I picked up my purse and paused at the hall phone book
to look up the address of "Bosom Buddies."  Then I went out the
door, my heels clicking as I made my way back to my car, not even
once looking back.