Women's Jeans - Part 2

ALL STORY LIST

PART - 1 

Friday, I woke up late to find Sara in the house making herself some lunch and looking very pleased with herself. By mid-afternoon, I was recovered and dressed in a bra and full girl outfit at her request. I had styled my hair, done a quick makeup and then was surprised to see mum come home early. It was then I noticed she had a small suitcase and a holdall in her room packed, all she wanted to do was change and freshen up and told me to pack, which Sara was already doing.

We loaded our bags into the car and left for I knew not where. I drove which kept my mind elsewhere, arriving at our London hotel about 7. Booked in, then out for something to eat, when I felt we had stopped moving I asked what we would be doing. This created a 'should we tell him, or leave him guessing' conversation. In the end, they looked at me and said it was best I just follow them and go with the flow, but what was booked was a weekend theater break. And not to worry, I would be asked to do nothing they were not prepared to do themselves, and it was going to be fun.

The fun started in the morning. I had noticed parcels arriving over the past few weeks; now I found out what they were. But first Sara helped me shave all over, telling me waxing and creams need time to heal. So with my downy hair, all gone, mom produced a pair of false tits, which she said would look real by the finish. And when she had glued and made up the edges, I could not see the join; next, she said only mom could do this, not girlfriends. She slid a tight tube over my penis, then put the hairdryer on it, which made the tube shrink onto the penis. Then she took the tails hanging from it and pulled it behind me till my penis was up between my legs and looking backward, and stuck them down. We then all had an admiring session. I was told how good I looked in the nude, to which I had to agree.

The black trousers fitted better now, and mom had bought a new bra to take my new chest size. By now it was mid-morning and we were off out for a coffee, then we had an appointment. Which turned out to be a ladies' salon. All three of us booked in already for the work we each needed. This was largely new to me, and I tried to see what the others were having done, but I would see them with their heads covered like mine, so I had no idea what was happening, just that I was being treated the same as them.

My hair was washed, but from then everything was new, but for reading bottles, I had no idea what the salon girls were doing. Mum and I ended up in the hood dryers together. I tried to talk, but she just took my hand and smiled at me. Then nail technicians set about us, massaging my fingers first, which was very relaxing, and then when I opened my eyes, they were making the nails longer. Several hours after going in, we were standing in the reception area staring at each other. Mom had basically booked us in for the styles we had discussed all those weeks ago; her bob was dark on top with blonde underneath, Sara was really short, and I was blonde, center-parting with everything flicked backward. The other thing to realize was our nails; mom's talons were burgundy, which I knew would match the dress she had brought with her; mine, I was told, were French tips and seemed ridiculously long until I later compared them to mom's, who smiled at me and said I could have the same next time if I wanted.

We now had to shop, I was told. They also told me it was to be my introduction to fabrics and styles. I thought reading a few of their magazines would help here, but we had 4 hours to get me sorted, they said, so first a dress for the theater. I tried to protest that trousers can look really classy and what is wrong with culottes, but they just told me to go with the flow and enjoy. After what seemed like endless trips to changing rooms, which thankfully were not communal, I was getting used to being in a woman's environment and attracting no attention other than comments on how nice the dress looked. There's a man in here called security. It was decided a white dress, virginal, they suggested, with a very full skirt, loose cross-over top, and flared sleeves was chosen. Then we had to get the underwear and shoes. Sara insisted I get stockings and a white fine lace undies set. Then all we needed was white sandals, which had the highest heels I had ever seen, but they both told me they looked great. Last we got what I called a wide scarf but was told was a wrap and assured would look very elegant.

After a rest for a drink, it was back to change for the evening, and I was really getting very excited by all the attention. Mum was sweet as she asked how I had liked the day; I had to admit to loving it. Sara asked how I liked the new look, getting used to it, and I smiled in response. Well, mom said the best is to come; the getting glammed up, then going out and strutting about feeling great and being noticed is something I hope you enjoy. 'Like I am not feeling noticed already; try being a boy dressed like this and you will feel noticed.'

Anyway, mom assured me I would enjoy the next part. Sara went to her room to change, leaving me with mom. She said we should get ready together, so we stripped and put on our clean underwear, which felt very strange seeing mom naked and quite strange to see she does have a good figure, not something sons usually think. She showed me how to put on stockings and then makeup. I had been thinning my brows already, but she pulled more out to get a thinner line; they grow back, she assured me. How long I asked, she shrugged. Now for the dress, it was hung up waiting, and after the sensations of the day, following the stockings and delicate pants, the feel of the dress floating down my body made goosebumps appear everywhere along with a tightening in my groin, which hurt a bit as the restriction was felt—not for the first time, I must add. As I fastened my shoe, Mom slipped on her burgundy dress. I had seen it hanging, but on it was stunning, strapless, and fitted at the bust, then flowing around her legs. When I told her she looked great, she thanked me and said that was the point, and I looked brilliant also. I just blushed.

Sara had been out all the time, and I had not thought to ask what she was going to wear. Mum rang her room to tell her we were ready; she was round in a flash. I do not know who was the most shocked me or her; she just stared at me, then mum, 'Two stunning ladies, absolutely.' I stared back; she was in a black suit with shiny lapels, a bow tie, flat hair, and trying to speak with a deep voice. I must have had a gormless look on my face. She came to me and kissed my cheek. 'We decided that it would be fun to have a man around, and I fancied short hair, and why should you get all the fun of being a different gender?' Mom just said the suit fitted well, picked up our clutch bags, and we were ushered out by Sara.

I was in a sensory overload on reflection; I had never worn such high heels, stockings, or a dress or been made up so well. Every part of me wanted to say this is different, some parts telling me this feels very nice. The skirt swished around my legs as we walked to the foyer, then the cool air hit my near-bare skin as we stepped outside, and people were looking at us as we walked out. This was a real adrenalin buzz; what if we are caught? How embarrassing. We got into a cab, I relaxed slightly, and then we were in the west end. Sara led us to a bar for a strong drink. Mom checked she had the tickets, and we realized we had no idea what she had brought us to see. Ballet she told us, then explained the audience dress up more for ballet and the story she felt appropriate, the ugly duckling theme. I just blushed and looked at my empty G&T.

Mum is very good at the strutting, so I tried to copy her confidence. Sara just tried to be manly but probably only doing as well as my girly impression. But I knew I was having more fun than both of them.

Ballet is surprisingly entertaining, and the women in the audience were mostly well dressed, which made me feel as if I nearly fitted in, except for the minor difference of what I keep in my knickers.

Having hardly eaten all day, we made our way to a nice-looking restaurant full of people like us who had been to a show. Mum was in her element and encouraging me to enjoy the atmosphere and the whole female experience. I did try but doubted I was anywhere near as confident as my mother. Sara just kept up the man's role for all she was worth and not doing too badly, possibly better than me.

It was early morning by the time the cab had dropped us back at the hotel, and we had been to the bar for one last drink. Somewhere in the evening, we had talked about our rooms. Mom booked 3 singles, but hers and Sara's were twins; mine was a double. So after we watched Mom close her door, we just looked at each other. 'Yours or mine,' we said together. The double was unanimous, but Sara said she had one last treat, slipped into her room, and then came to mine with a bag.

I hardly had the door shut before she was kissing me; we broke for air, 'undress, then look in the bag'. This took time, but as I undressed, Sara was getting out of her suit. I came out of the en suite wearing her gift, a red silk nightie, to see her wearing just boxers and a t-shirt. We had never done anything like this before and climbed into bed to find out how things were when you get really intimate.

The next morning we woke to feel unsure of what we had done the night before. My penis was still sore from it's straining against the sheath, but as I moved, the nightie rode over my skin and reminded me of all the nice sensations.

'So what are we supposed to be doing today?' I asked my horizontal partner, who happened to be looking at me. 'Well, coffee to start if you are offering,' and without thinking, I got up and switched the kettle on. She watched me: 'You still look great, you know. Even first thing with messed up hair and makeup you should have cleaned off, you are still a very attractive woman.' 'Give over,' I told her, 'you know what I am really.' Then, with a grin, she told me, 'Even knowing that you are still hotter than I ever can be.' I was about to protest when mom rang on the hotel phone. She wanted some breakfast, and we were joining her to discuss what she had planned.

After our breakfast discussion, we heard more of mom's plan that we would agree to; it was decided that Sara was going to be Sam until we went home, and if I wanted, I could be Danielle too, as if I had any choice without my Dan clothes.

The choice we did have was this: we could stay in London. Go to the coast. Or go home. Whichever we chose, we would stay as Danielle and Sam until we got back to our house. Mum then looked at us both and said, 'If you shared a room, it would make the money go further.'  We acted all innocent, but she smiled and winked, 'I know you can't get up to much at present, what with Danielle looking so neat in the bathroom, and I would be a fool to think you went straight to bed when you left me last night.' I blushed and dared not make eye contact. 'Thought so,' she said, 'wasn't sure, but I am now.' She paused. 'So where?' Sara made the decision; she wanted to have a few days in London and later told me most hotels have twin rooms, and we had a double, which was unlikely to happen at another hotel.

We went our separate ways in the daytime, but in the evenings, mom insisted we dressed smartly for dinner. This meant we wore pretty androgynous clothes for sightseeing, but come the night I had to wear a skirt; surprisingly, I never complained, even spending time buying a new one that mom would approve of. But with Sara's encouragement, I bought a short kilt that felt like I was showing the world everything, including my knickers, but Sara insisted I wore daytime, which had the effect of sending her into the full-time male mode. As I teetered about on the heels, trying not to show my pants, after three days I had to admit it was great fun being Danielle. The daytime with Sara was fun, the evenings with mom were great, and especially all the effort that went into getting ready. And the nights were full of surprises and discovery; we even managed to make each other come, though I did not fancy a second time as I was so sore with my penis so securely tied up; at the time, it was brilliant.

The Wednesday morning I went to breakfast in the kilt, and mom quietly asked if I intended going out in it. 'Already have' I answered, 'fulltime skirts then?' ' For today, yes. She changed the subject to 'I was thinking of heading for home today. I had a call from a friend late last night, and I think we have done enough here. What do you say?' We looked at each other. Mom wanted to go home for her friend, so I told her what a great time we had had, but we should head back to normality. To which she asked, 'And what is that now?' We looked at each other for a few moments, then I raised the subject of what to wear, and maybe the kilt was not quite right for going home in. Sara had to ask if the skirt was out; did that mean the hair, nails, and make-up were out as well? I gave mom the choice; if she wanted, I would go and clean up, wash my hair, and do something with the nails. I was trying to say I like this, but it is up to you from now on. What about the neighbors?

Somehow she made it sound like a compromise when she suggested trousers would be better for traveling rather than a short skirt. Sara squeezed my thigh, 'Better pack and get ready then.'

For the next few days, I went back to a fairly androgynous style, except my hair at the front was too short to go in a ponytail, so I had a big fringe and long wispy bits at the sides. Also, the nails were too nice to remove. I also had a chest that was inappropriate for a man, but a baggy top possibly hid them. Mum was helping her friend with a crisis, so I spent my time with Sara, keeping the house for mom, and cooking for her when she came home.

The next week was a turning point; I had two months off till the results came out, and mom had wanted me to get some work, but now I was rather hard to employ given the way I looked, but she suggested there would be openings in the gay bars, and she had done her research. So armed with a list of bars and dressed in heels, tight trousers, a top, not much makeup, and a baggy jacket, I set off in search of a job.

Neither of us knew there were different sorts of gay bars, but I quickly learned. Most wanted butch men or camp boys; I did not fit, but one was interested. The Nine Bob Note had a restaurant and needed staff, but there was a uniform of sorts. I agreed to a week's trial starting the next day and had to arrive early to change and find ways to bring some black heels. I thought nothing of it except mom would be pleased, and she was.

The next morning I found some money with a note saying, 'For the shoes, get a nice, neat pair.' PS: 'You can pay me back.' I had never really shopped alone before but thought I could just walk past a few windows, see what I liked, then go in and ask for my size. I did see what I liked, but when I went in and asked, the salesgirl somehow had me sitting and trying on a pair, then another, and another. In the end, she was right; I would have bought the wrong size, and after finding out where I was going, I knew what they would want. Black, patent, stilettos—it was less than an hour before I realized she was right.

When I arrived at the Nine Bob Note, I was taken to a locker room by a nice person that I thought was a girl, who explained the uniform and what it entailed. First the clothes. She showed me a dress and asked if I would be happy in one. I said I had worn dresses before. When she said how short, I described the kilt, so I should be OK with this. She pulled a blue dress off a rail and told me it should fit. Well, to shorten the tale, I was soon wearing it; the bodice was tight when the laces were pulled in, with puffy little sleeves of the shoulder, and the skirt was short, but with the net underskirt it seemed shorter. The stockings I was given were hardly covered when I moved, and then with my heels on, I knew why they had been suggested.

The work was easy, two other girls? Dressed the same, just different colors worked with me. I was a waitress dressed as a fantasy maid, and the men loved it. Dee and Jen, the other two girls, gave me tips on wandering hands and getting tips, best summed up as letting them see but no touching. By close that night my feet were worn out when I flopped in the locker room. I sat as Dee quickly cleaned herself up and changed into a smart boy. I was shocked. Are we all the same? I asked, and they smiled at me.Of course we e are. Why do you think you got a job? The kitchen staff are all men, the boss, Sheila is a woman, and all the bar staff and w are the same. Don't know.It took a bit to take in, but I was sure there were at ''least some women here. Sheila then walked in with the tips. I had money in my hand, a bit shocked, but would be back the next evening.

I got home late and found mom still up wanting to know how things had gone. I described it as waiting on a job, not going into detail about the 'uniform' and told her how much I should be making, and offered to help with my contribution to the housekeeping. She seemed pleased and pointed out we would see little of each other as our jobs were different hours.

I know she wanted me to enjoy the job, and I know she enjoys me dressing as I do; otherwise, why would she have taken me out so many times? But I was not sure she would like the outfit I was wearing at work. I did not realize it but would find out soon.

Sara rang and wanted to know everything as well, so I gave her the edited version I had given Mom and said I would see her for lunch.

The week passed quickly; mid-afternoon I was out in my androgynous look, change at work, get to know the others better, wait on tables, change back, and go home.

This was my first real job, and I enjoyed the money, as well as the work, and in a way the clothes with the attention they brought. Men and some women were definitely not there for the food; we were floorshows, a bit like offbeat hooters in the states.

As predicted, I did not see much of Mom and Sara only for lunch twice, but I was off on Sunday and we could catch up then, but things would need some explaining by then. On Friday evening I was doing my usual thing serving the customers, learning to flirt and get more tips, when mom and Sara came in unnoticed by me. They got a table in a corner and did not make themselves known until it went quiet. How considerate! They had seen me flirting with loads of people; they had seen the outfit I had forgotten to tell them about; there was so much I wish they had not seen. It was Sara who came up to me, approaching from behind; she said 'nice legs' and I froze. Her voice brought me down very quickly, and my mind went into shock thinking about how she would take this—why was she there?—did I have nice legs?

I joined them later at their table with my drink; they did indeed have some questions and some comments. They liked the dress, I did have nice legs, who are the others, I seem to get along well with the men, and did I like the attention they made of me? I wanted to know why they had come, what they thought of the place, should I be doing this, was I gay, and did I really have nice legs?

I had arranged to go out that night with the staff, so I promised not to be late and would see them later. The 'girls' changed out of their costumes and into their street clothes; I had jeans and a jumper, and they had hot little dresses. 4 of us apparently were on the pull; I was not asked; it was assumed I was apart of it. So we went to a couple of late bars; they said to get in the mood, then to a club. I was trying to just watch what was happening and keep in the group, but the group one by one disappeared, till there was me standing next to Dee, who was engrossed in a man. I was surprised when a voice asked if I would like a drink. He looked at my empty glass; I must have nodded in agreement as he returned with strong vodka. Next thing I am dancing with him, and then when he touches I do not recoil. Another drink, another dance closer, and I feel his hard-on, then his lips; again, I do not recoil. Thoughts are going through my vodka mind about whether I should be doing this, should I enjoy it, and what Sara would say. Then his lips touched mine, and I responded. I have no idea how long we kissed, but soon enough Dee was touching me, asking if I would go to the ladies with her. There she told me to touch up the lipstick and gave me a condom. 'Be sure and safe' was all she said on the subject; was it so obvious it was my first time? It was also getting late, and we were doing lunches. As it was Saturday the next day, her advice was to get his number and save it for another day, as she was going to do.

I crept into the dark house and fell asleep with all sorts of things whizzing around my head. It seemed like I had only just gone off when the alarm woke me. I was not sure what to say to mom, so I just dressed and quickly left the house. In short, it was not a good time for the talk we would end up having. Sunday I would have to face her.

Work was fine, Dee was really friendly, wanting to know how my head was, did I get his number, and which way do I swing? To which I answered, not too bad, yes, not sure. She then kissed me and told me I was definitely going to be fun, not sure what she meant, and with so many options unexplored, I knew Dee might show me some new things, and then with a stroke of my stocking top, she said, 'Time for work.'

The Sunday talk was unpredictable, by me anyway. Sara had apparently been around the evening before; she was still there in the morning, and I guess she was discussing me. So I had to tell them how I felt about the job; they called me a sex object, a tart, then told me I looked great and that I should show my legs more often, which had me confused. Then we got to sexuality. I realized mom and Sara were sitting together and that they were smiling and giving each other looks that I later recognized as virtual handholding, but I was into trying to describe how it felt to be attractive to men and possibly attracted by men when Sara reminded me how I liked her as a man. None of this was helping, and she said I was going out for a while to think.

I rang Dee to ask if we could meet; of course, come round was the simple reply. I put on my kilt and silkiest blouse, leaving lots of buttons undone. I felt wanton and wanted to see where I would go. Leaving the house with a coat covering my outfit, I took it off at Dee's, who just welcomed me with a hug and a kiss. 'So what do you want to know?' she asked. I had a lot of whys and a few hows. Dee assured me the why is never answered, the how can be easier. Then as we talked, she/he got closer; there had been plenty of touching already, but then Dee undid the last few buttons and asked, 'Would you like to see how I can make you smile?' 'Meaning' I asked. She just slid a hand around my neck and pulled me to her. She was soon out of her trousers, and unlike me, she had nothing holding her male parts back. I am not sure how we did it, but I sucked her; she licked me. And I left with a smile.

I got in still smiling to find mom in a good mood and dressed in her wrap, and when Sara appeared to help to make the meal, she mum kept touching her in an affectionate way. I only said'mum' but the tone was odd, and mom just turned around to Sara and told me to sit down. While I have been doing some exploring, the outfit I wore had not gone unnoticed earlier; they too had been doing some exploring, and seeing as how I was off seeing what men were like, they had had a look at what women were like, and initial findings were good; they liked it. I was shocked, but I was put in my place as they had guessed most of what I had done over the last days, then they told me how the visit to the restaurant had been the start, but they chatted about me and other things later on a Friday night with a drink at home and then ended up kissing. 'Oh' was about all I could think to say, but I thought I really must get that phone number out and go shopping; I need a new dress; my nails are needing help; my hair needs a wash; I must pick up some condoms from the bar; KY jelly. So much to think about how I was being allowed to try with the quiet help of my mom. I came back to earth as mom read my thoughts, 'We could go shopping when you are free; get you something to go out with Dee in if you like.'

The next few days were a turmoil; I was confused about who I was, why I was dressing so feminine, was I gay, and where did Sara fit in my life after she had to lead me into this whole new world. It was time for a heart-to-heart with Sara; she thought we should clear up a few things as well and said she would see me when I got up the next day.

She was always persuasive; just look at how I was first persuaded to wear her clothes, and I agreed somehow that we should stop seeing each other as a couple and consider ourselves as sisters. It had been over a week since we had been intimate; with one thing and another, I was just too busy, so maybe we should be friends. We sat back and reflected on the new situation. I could see myself as free to go out with Dee and not feel unfaithful. Sara, I hoped, would be the sort of friend/sister I could confide in, but that needed time, I guessed. In the meantime, I told her she was welcome to come around any time; apparently, mom had already told her that, and they were in fact off out that evening to the pictures, just the two of them. As friends I asked, very good friends she replied, and after the weekend revelations I took that to mean more.

So come my next day off, mom insisted on taking me shopping after she finished work. We met, had a quick meal, then hit the shops. 'Still want trousers?' she asked, 'not sure, what do you think' as I tried to duck the question and find out how far she was prepared to let me go before she called me a tart or bimbo. 'Well, we know you have great legs; shame to hide them!' Oh, I thought, How short could I go? I soon found out as mom pulled out a party dress, which barely covered the pants, with gloss tights and matching shoes. 'A stunner', she remarked. I tried looking at trousers for old time's sake, but we did not have much time and had to make a choice. I went home with a minidress that really was a big pink satin vest that had a large belt sitting on the hips, glossy tan tights, and 4" pink sandals. 'Now all you need is to arrange a night out and show it off.' I was relieved but at the same time shocked that my mom actually wanted me to go out dressed like this.

I saw Dee the next day and told her about the dress; she immediately told me we were going out after work the next day. So the next day I turn up for work with an extra bag of clothes. Work dragged, but soon enough we were changing. Dee put on plenty of wows and plenty of touching: 'I would love to have you all for myself, but I think you should experience the effect you will have.' She added some bangles and declared us ready; even if I did not feel it, I felt naked; nude knickers and a skimpy dress did not seem suitable protection against the elements, but Dee was in a similar state, and she did have hold of my hand and was dragging me through the door.

I never bought a drink, even refused them; I enjoyed the attention; I could allow hands to wander, unlike work, and enjoy the buzz. One man was really nice; we danced and chatted and drank; Dee was off with his friend enjoying himself, so somehow I found myself once again kissing a man and not running away shrieking. It was nice. When his hand got under the hem of the dress, I stopped him and told him I might have a surprise hidden there. He just reassured me by telling them they knew Dee and about her, so he hoped I was just like her. When I said yes, his hand just slid to the top of my legs and touched my straining penis. I felt a buzz through my body, and he just smiled, 'That sort of surprise I like'.

Ralph lived not far away, so he invited us all round for 'coffee.' The thrill of a strong arm holding my waist as I teetered by his side, he gave me his jacket as he thought I would be cold; my mind was not registering such things until later. This was brilliant.

Once inside, Dee got me to one side as the men made some drinks. 'You can say no,' she insisted. 'Well, make sure you are safe.'  I smiled and showed her a packet. 'Right, in that case, you take Ralphy to his bedroom and leave me and my man here, OK?' I hugged her, and the drinks arrived—pretty strong gin with less tonic. I did as I was told and whispered in his ear that I would like to see his bedroom. And he did. Then she showed me a few things that had not been on display. Soon the pants were off along with his trousers, and we were enjoying making him hard. Then I heard Dee making orgasm noises, and I rolled on my back and told him he had to do that to me. So covered and KYed he set about me, I came draped over the footboard of the bed with him standing behind me and me biting his duvet.

Once spent, he went to pour another drink. Dee sneaked in and found my still as he left me, too exhausted to move. She pulled my face to hers, 'happy?' I nodded. 'Time to go then, slip this in,' handing me a tampon, 'and pull your pants on; I have rung for a taxi.'.

We left them sitting on the couch looking as knackered as we felt and promised to do it again soon. The drive home was quiet, but holding hands seemed so right, we kissed as we parted. What a top night I thought as I crept in. I nearly did not notice Sara's coat and the two of everything; Sara had not gone home. How odd I thought.

The next morning I was woken by the shower. I had not washed before bed and knew I looked a mess, and then my arse reminded me it had been stretched. I needed to pee, so I had to get up. Sara caught me on the landing. 'That must have been a good night looking at the state of your sister. Hope he was worth it?' 'I just need the toilet, please,' but the way I walked must have given good clues as to what happened the night before.

Eventually, I was ready to face my mom; she was sitting drinking a coffee and offered to make me one, which I accepted. Then, facing one another over the kitchen table, she asked, 'Was the dress a success?' 'Oh yes, it went down well,' she thought it would. You were back late, was it good?' Where was she leading with this, and what was Sara doing here? Hoping to avoid the question I asked about Sara. This got me confused as she told me how they were growing closer, and if I was going to experiment, then why shouldn't they? But my mind vaguely reminded me, This is your mom and ex-girlfriend; how can that be right? Mom finished with a direct question, 'So is it as sore as it looks?' 'What do you think?' 'What I was thinking was, you never had sex as a man, but now a man has had you. How does that feel?' I was trying to organize my thoughts when she filled the silence. 'I am fine with whatever you do; just be careful and enjoy it. If you don't, then stop. Understood?' 'I think so, and you do not mind me pretending to be a girl?' 'How can I, I encouraged you, and I like you this way' 'and Sara?' I asked, 'That is something we are enjoying, and if that stops, then we move on.'

Over the next month, Sara moved in fulltime and did not use the spare room that often from what I could make out. She had rarely worn skirts, but she was always in trousers and bloke-style tops. Then she got a job at a builder's merchant and would come home filthy. I guessed she was doing the male thing to balance me, but then maybe she just liked it. In the meantime, I had gotten more girly. Mum had suggested when I had my nails first done I could have longer ones later, and now it was later. I also got my ears pierced and promised to have my navel done. And while getting my roots done, my hair streaked.

Dee became a firm friend and helped me explore all sorts of new things. She taught me the art of caressing and could make me cough several times. Other times insisting I give her all the attention. We dated some men we meet at the bars, with varying success, but when I bumped into Ralph on the evening, I felt myself getting hard just thinking about him, so much so that I made sure he took me to his flat to see if he was as good as my memory insisted he was. He was, but this time instead of a taxi, he wrapped me in a duvet and made me coffee in the morning. He wanted to run me home, but instead, I persuaded him to make love again and then run me to work. He just smiled, cleared the cups off, and then laid me over the kitchen table.

And so my future was sealed; I became sex-mad, Ralph never refused, and Dee was always there if I needed a change. Sara and Mom seemed happy with each other, becoming a public couple, which raised a few eyebrows, which was nothing compared to the gossip I must have caused. Goodness knows what people must have thought when we were all out and we met someone we knew. It gave them something to talk about anyway.