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From: LabRat@i-link.net (Karen Mitchell)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Story - Weekend.txt
Date: Sun, 07 Jul 1996 16:26:40 -0500
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Reply-To: LabRat@i-link.net (Karen Mitchell)
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I did not write this and you must be 18 or over to read it as it may
contain a great deal of adult explicit sexuality. If this is
offensive do not read - delete file. For those of us who enjoy ....
enjoy! Please do not ask for files by e-mail - I can barely keep up
with what I have now.
A LONG WEEKEND EN FEMME
I had been planning this weekend for a month, but my long weekend
en femme actually started Thursday evening as I gathered a feminine
change of clothes, a wig and a little makeup. I put these things in
my gym bag and then put the bag back in the van where it normally
stays. I'd be using the stuff in that bag Friday afternoon. I
continued with setting up for the weekend Friday morning as I took my
shower. I had been thinning out the hair on my legs all week and on
Friday morning, I completed shaving them entirely. I drove my wife to
work with her suitcases that morning, and by 1:00 P.M. she had taken
a cab to the airport and was on her way to Florida, not to return
until the following Friday afternoon. That afternoon at work was one
of the longest I think I've ever spent, waiting for five o'clock to
roll around. But it finally did, and I was off!
The first stop after work was a big empty parking lot near my
office, where, in the seclusion of the back of my van, I changed from
my masculine office attire of shirt, tie, slacks and cowboy boots to
a more feminine outfit of black jeans short-shorts, oversized
Hawaiian shirt, wide black belt and gold sandals. I also put on a
little blush, a swipe of eye shadow, some mascara, lipstick, and a
dab of perfume, topping it all off with a short natural wig. Ten
minutes after stopping, I was back on the road in femme mode. The
next stop was at my friend Mimi's nail salon. There I had a complete
set of very long acrylic nails and a pedicure done. If you've never
had a pedicure, you owe it to yourself to experience that treat.
Ann, the lady who did my pedicure paid me a compliment that I never
thought I would hear: she said that I have very nice feet. All
twenty nails were topped off with a dynamite scarlet red polish with
some gold overtones. Once again, I was amazed by how quickly I got
used to having long nails on my fingers. By the time the polish on
them had dried, I really did forget that they were there; they seemed
totally natural to me. Mimi wanted me to come back by later in the
weekend to show off, and I said I would if I had a chance.
I left Mimi's and drove home, deciding to take a bath and just
lounge around the house and visit with my sister-in-law, Bev, once I
got there. However, by the time I made it home and had eaten some
supper, I really didn't have a whole lot of energy left, and Bev
wasn't feeling well. So, I just removed what little makeup I had on,
took a quick shower and did a quick styling job on my long curly wig
before heading for bed in a new red and purple satin gown.
I didn't sleep very well Friday night, probably from a
combination of excitement and having to sleep alone. I'm used to
having another warm body in bed with me. But I was reasonably well
rested by the time Saturday morning arrived. I got up about 8:00 and
checked to see if Bev was feeling any better and if she wanted to
watch my transformation. She was still feeling lousy and decided to
stay in bed for the day, so one of my girl friends was now out of the
picture. I took my bath, postponed from the night before, put on my
lingerie with the appropriate pads and slipped into my lavender satin
robe and slippers to nervously wait for my other girl friend, Mary,
who was supposed to arrive at 9:00. I still wasn't sure just what to
expect when she showed up, or even if she was going to make it. She
called at 8:45 to ask if the coffee was on (it was) and to let me
know that she was on her way. Mary arrived about 9:15, looked me
over once and then gave me a long hug and a kiss, saying with a big
smile, "Well, you don't look like your pictures right now, but you
don't look bad, either." She wanted to see Jami's closet, so I gave
her a quick tour, and then we went into the kitchen and had coffee
while she admired my nails and asked questions about crossdressing in
general and my CDing in particular. I answered her questions, we
talked some more and finally ended up discussing what the upcoming
day was going to encompass. The decision was reached that I would
get ready while Mary observed, and then we would go back to her house
so she could change clothes in order for us to go to lunch at a nice
restaurant and then go shopping at the Galleria mall. By the time we
headed upstairs so that I could get ready, over an hour had passed
and neither one of us was nervous anymore. We were just two friends
getting together for a Saturday.
I took my time putting on my face, explaining what I was doing
and why, as I went along. The two of us just gabbed along as my
makeover progressed, with Mary making one or two color suggestions.
It actually took me about twice as long as usual to get ready because
of our talking, but I finally got all done, put on my long hair and
asked, "Well? What's the verdict?" Mary took both my hands, looked
me in the eyes and said very sincerely, "You're beautiful." That
almost did it for me. I got very choked up and my eyes started to
overflow as I thanked her for her friendship and her opinion. She
hugged me and replied, "You're welcome, but don't start crying now
because I don't want to take the time for you to repair your makeup.
I'm getting hungry, and I want to go to lunch." So I managed to
stifle my tears and quickly fixed my eyes and moved on to getting
dressed. Mary helped me pick out my outfit for the day: a red,
yellow, purple and black city shorts outfit and low-heeled black
ankle-strap wedgies with nude pantihose. As I took off my robe, Mary
wanted to know about the pads that I was already wearing. I showed
her the breast forms and the hip pads, and she vowed that if she ever
had liposuction hip reduction she would donate the removed fat to me
for a hip transplant. I quickly got dressed, put on my jewelry and
some "First" perfume (another hit with Mary), loaded up my purse, and
we were off in Mary's car to her house; two ladies off for a day on
the town.
I had never been to Mary's house, so she felt obligated to give
me the tour. It is a very nice three bedroom house. There was
plenty of evidence of her two kids, but they were spending the
weekend with their father, so we had the place to ourselves. I was
also introduced to her cats and made immediate friends with them. It
was my turn to help Mary pick out an outfit for the day, and we
selected a skirt and top in a very colorful floral print on a white
background and white heels. She wanted to wear heels so that the
difference in our heights wouldn't be as noticeable. We were in her
bedroom, sitting on the bed just talking away, and as she started to
take off her shorts and sweatshirt to change clothes it suddenly
occurred to us that we really weren't just two girl friends. We had
both gotten caught up in the feeling of the moment and then had to
admit the reality of it. With both of us laughing, I went out in the
hall for the few minutes it took her to put on her bra and pantihose
and the skirt and top. Then it was my turn to play observer while
Mary put on her face and fixed her hair. She got her face finished
very quickly, but I helped her with her hair. We took a moment to
sit down in her kitchen and have a drink of water and finalize the
plan for the day. We were going to stop at Mimi's for a few minutes
and then go to Houston's for lunch and on to the Galleria for window
shopping and maybe even some REAL shopping. We called Carol, another
mutual friend, about meeting us at the Galleria, and she told us to
call her when we got there since she had a previous engagement for a
golf lesson, but would like to get together later. And then we were
out the door and on the road again.
Mimi's salon was packed with women getting their nails done and
everybody was very busy, so I just said "Hi" to Mimi and introduced
Mary to her and then we left, although I promised to come back if I
could. As we walked out and crossed the parking lot to the car, Mary
said with a laugh, "Don't you know that that place is just buzzing
right now? I think we were a hit." We went on to Houston's for a
late lunch.
The food at Houston's was great, as always, and our waiter, Carl,
was attentive, charming and funny. He was every inch the gentleman,
constantly checking on us ladies and earning himself a great tip in
the process. I noticed several other diners eyeing us as we had a
drink and our lunch, but nobody was laughing and pointing. I don't
think it would have bothered me even if they had been, because we
were having such a good time. We called Carol before we left, but
there wasn't any answer. And as we were leaving, Carl told us twice
to come back soon. Little did any of us know that we would be taking
him up on his offer.
The Galleria was packed with people, so we had a little trouble
finding a good place to park, but we finally made our way inside the
mall. Mary complained that she has always had a problem finding her
car in a big parking complex, but I assured her that I had a very
good sense of direction and that we could easily find her car again
using my guidance. We cruised through the entire mall, stopping
occasionally to comment on, and sometimes drool about, shoes, a
weakness we both share. We stopped in Macy's and looked at blouses
and skirts, but didn't see anything either of us liked. We also
stopped at Caren Charles, a woman's boutique that advertises in our
local Tri-Ess newsletter and is very accepting of CDs. I tried on a
longer multicolored chiffon skirt that was on sale there and ended up
buying it, but Mary didn't find anything that she liked. We also
stopped for a little while and had coffee, but mostly we just kept
walking and looking and talking. I was totally oblivious to the
crowds. I was just having a good time. Mary finally found some
potpourri that she wanted to put in her car, and I splurged and
bought it for her since she hadn't let me help pay for the gas we
were using. We called Carol a couple of times, too, but never got an
answer, so we assumed that she had met some good-looking guy at the
golf course. After several hours, Mary finally said, "We have to go
now." I asked if she were tired, and she replied that she wasn't
tired but that she was getting upset. Of course, I wanted to know if
she were upset by being in public with me. She held my hand and
answered, "Not at all, but I'm getting upset by the reactions that I
see in other people. Actually, I'm getting pretty pissed off at the
judgment that I see those people making of you when they don't have
the slightest idea of who you are, and I find myself wanting to hit
them to knock some sense into them. So, we have to leave before I
say something or do something I'll regret. Yes, if you weren't here
with me, I wouldn't be having these feelings, but that isn't your
fault - it's those other people's." And so we returned unerringly to
the car and left the mall.
We took the long leisurely (non-freeway) route to my house, but
during the drive home encountered Mary's former fiance in his car in
the midst of traffic. She became rather upset at seeing him next to
us and pulled into a small shopping center to collect herself. She
went on to relate the story of their relationship and its end and the
impact that it had all had on her emotions. After telling me the
story and shedding more than a few tears, we hugged and she thanked
me profusely for listening, for caring and for being her friend. Then
we hit the road again. For the remainder of the trip, though, she
held my hand. When I asked why, she said that she just needed some
human contact, and I was one of the most human people she knew. I
think that was a compliment. I asked her if she wanted to go see a
movie that night, but she declined, saying that she had to clean up
her house and yard before going in to the office on Sunday and then
leaving town on Monday.
We got back to my house early in the evening, and Mary came
inside to get a glass of iced tea before heading back to her place. I
went to check on Bev, but she wasn't home, so evidently she was
feeling better. Mary and I talked for the short time it took her to
finish her tea and then she went to leave. We hugged each other for
a long time, laughing about our day, and I gave her another hug and a
goodbye kiss on the front porch. As I stood on the porch while she
walked to her car, I heard a female voice ask her, "Is my mom here?
Is there anyone home?" I immediately recognized it as Christine,
Bev's 25-year old daughter. Mary was very surprised and a little
flustered but managed to stammer out something like "Yes, I think
so," before getting in her car. Christine hadn't seen me on the
porch yet, and I was hit by an instant of utter panic, which passed as
quickly as it had come. I just stepped back inside the house and
held the front door open so she could enter the house. She walked
in, glanced at me and kept on walking toward Bev's room. Then she
stopped, turned around and stared and finally recognized me as I
closed the door. She went on into her mother's room saying, "I was
driving down to see my dad at my grandmother's house and I really
have to pee and you guys were closest so I came here. I'll be back in
a minute." With that, she disappeared into Bev's bathroom while I
just waited in the entryway. When she came back out a few minutes
later, she looked at me again and said, "You're not going to a
costume party, are you?" I answered that I wasn't and asked if she
wanted to know what was happening. She definitely did.
So, for the next hour I explained sex, sexuality and gender in
general, concentrating on crossdressing and my own situation in
particular. She was very accepting, but then again, she's a
psychology major (graduating in December) and has always been a very
open-minded person. For the second time that day, I ended up
showing off Jami's closet and even offered Christine the use of
anything she might like. She declined for the present, but said that
she would keep me in mind, once she got used to the idea of possibly
borrowing a skirt from her uncle. While we were talking, Bev came in
and didn't even bat an eyelash to see her daughter calmly talking to
me in the living room. She joined right in, and our conversation
gradually got around to the reason for Christine's trip from college:
to see her father to ask to borrow money from him to fix her car. Bev
and I offered our opinions on the best way to beg Bev's ex-husband
for the money. In the midst of our conversation, Christine suddenly
stopped, took my hand, looked at me and said, "You don't LOOK like
anyone I know, but you FEEL like somebody I love and trust." I
thanked her for seeing the person and not the appearance. She left
after a couple of hours to resume her trip. I asked Bev if she
wanted to go to the movies, but she wanted to just stay home and read.
That sounded like a good idea to me, so she and I whipped up a salad
for supper and then headed off to our individual rooms to curl up
with our respective books. I took off my makeup and wig, took a
quick shower, and then put on some white leggings, an oversized red
T-shirt and some white sandals before settling down. I read until the
news came on TV. After the news I took the dogs out for their walk
before putting on my nightie and crawling into bed to read a little
longer before lights out. Saturday had been a very full day, but I
was looking forward to Sunday, too. My Glamour Shots appointment was
at nine in the morning!
I got up earlier than I needed to Sunday morning, but I was
really excited about going to Glamour Shots. I forced myself to
relax and eat a leisurely bowl of Cocoa Krispies (a no-fat cereal!)
and drink a cup of coffee for breakfast. Since I would be getting a
complete makeover shortly, I just washed my face and put on my long
straight wig before getting dressed, starting with all the proper
underwear and padding, of course. I had been told to wear a
two-piece outfit with a top that I could remove without pulling it
over my head, so I wore a pair of red silk shorts and a red and black
short-sleeved silk blouse along with a wide black belt, a pair of dark
pantihose and my low black wedgies. The Glamour Shots studio that I
had found willing to take me as a crossdressed customer was not the
closest one to my house, so I had to drive for a while to get there,
but I arrived right on time. There were no other stores open in the
mall at 9:00 on a Sunday morning, which was part of the reason I had
selected that time, but I had also thought about having the remainder
of the day available after I had had my makeover. There were two
makeup artists and the manager in the studio when I arrived, and
everyone was very nice and very professional. They all made me feel
right at home. I was directed to change from my blouse into a black
strapless stretch top which was then covered with a large black
lightweight cotton jacket. I came out of the dressing room and was
directed to a chair right in front of the window. As soon as I sat
down, Maria, the makeup artist, started to work. While she was
applying the foundation, she asked me about my favorite eye shadow
colors and my skin type and if I had a sample of a lipstick I liked.
I took my lipstick out of my purse, showed it to her and she just
looked at the color and said, "I can do that." Everything she did
while making me up was custom blended to suit my face and my
preferences. The makeup was completed in about an hour. She said
that she normally gets done quicker but since there wasn't any rush
she wanted to take her time with me so everything would be perfect.
Once the makeup was in place, she asked about how I wanted my hair to
look. I told her that I was looking for something elegant, yet
somewhat tousled looking and away from my face. That's all it took
for her to start sticking hot rollers in my hair. I asked her if it
would be easier for her if I took the hair off. She laughed and said
that she was used to working on hair while it was sitting on top of a
woman's head, so she'd just leave it where it was.
While I was sitting there in rollers, she touched up my makeup
and did my lips with a custom-blended lipstick. She had added a
little more mauve to the color I showed her because she said it went
better with my eyes. As she was taking out the rollers, the
photographer came in to work, and another customer came in, too.
Neither one of them looked at me twice. It took Maria about 10
minutes to take out the rollers and pick and fluff and curl my hair
into exactly the look I wanted. Like I said, she was a pro. Then she
and I picked out the four looks for my poses. It was tough choosing
from literally hundreds of tops, but I finally settled on a gold
sequined halter, a purple feather boa, a black fur stole, and a
turquoise/gold fabric wrap, which I started with. She had me take off
the jacket but keep on the black top and she tied the wrap in a
crossover halter style. All of the tops for the pictures are worn
over the black strapless top so outfit changes can be made quickly. I
sat down in the studio, and Maria hung up the other three outfits that
I would be wearing as the photographer came in. I had my own special
earrings to complete this first look, and as I was putting them on
the photographer set up the first backdrop and the camera. I posed
at his direction for the four different shots and then exchanged the
wrap for the feather boa. He helped me pick out a pair of earrings
to go with the new top, and then I sat back down for the next
sequence of four pictures. As he was setting up, I asked "Do you
take many pictures of guys?" He said, "Sure", and then stopped and
just stared at me for a minute before continuing with a big smile,
"But you're the first one to be dressed like that!" And if you
hadn't said anything, I would never have known." I was appropriately
thankful and we proceeded to go through the four poses with each of
the remaining outfits in what seemed like no time at all. It really
was fun playing fashion model. Once we were all done, I changed back
into my own clothes and then undertook the really hard chore of
deciding which pictures, if any, I wanted to have printed. The
photographer captures each shot on film and in digital form on a
diskette. The diskette is used to show a fairly good reproduction of
the photograph on a 17-inch monitor in order for the clients to pick
out which poses look good enough to turn into prints. I ended up
picking 10 of my 16 poses to be done in a mix of wallet sized and
five by seven prints, and they threw in a copy of all 16 proof
prints. The bottom line for all the pictures, the makeup, the hair,
the outfits, the jewelry and the just plain thrill and fun of the
entire morning was right at two hundred bucks. (As I write this, I
have since picked up the final prints, and I must say that the
pictures turned out to be orders of magnitude better than I had ever
anticipated!) I think it was money well spent.
It was around 11:30 when I walked out into the mall, still
wearing my "glamourous" makeup and hair and excited after the
picture-taking session, so I called Mary from a pay phone just to
share my upbeat mood with someone. She said that my morning sounded
like a real fun time, but that she was on her way out to lunch with
Carol before heading to the office. She then asked me to join her
and surprise Carol. I readily agreed and then asked where we were
meeting. Mary laughed and said, "Houston's of course. Where else
would we go?" So I drove to Houston's, stopping for gas on the way,
and arrived about 30 seconds after Mary. We walked in together,
figured out that we had gotten there before Carol, and got a booth
seat. And of course, OUR waiter, Carl came over to see us, although
we weren't sitting in his area, since we had taken him up on his
offer to come back so soon. He chatted for a minute and then left to
get back to work, but promised to return before we left. Then Carol
arrived. She was astounded, to say the least, since she had only seen
pictures of me beforehand. She sat on my left (Mary was on my
right), and kept touching me during the entire time we were there
because she said that she didn't quite believe it and wanted to make
sure that I was real. We ordered drinks and a light lunch of soup
and salad and then Carl strolled back by the table and dropped off a
big order of french fries, saying as he passed, "Don't say anything -
you don't know where these free fries came from." Lunch and the
fries were great, again. Carol kept asking me questions that all
basically boiled down to "Why?" I kept trying to explain that even
if I knew why, I couldn't change anything, so why ask why? She asked
what I would do if someone from work walked in and recognized her and
Mary and then me. I replied, "I'd deal with it. I'm prepared to do
that or I wouldn't be here with you two right now. But in the
meantime, I'm going to enjoy being here and not worry about it."
That appeared to be good enough for her. We finished our lunch
without any incidents, paid the check and then headed out the door.
Just as we got outside, we heard someone say, "Hey! Were you just
going to sneak out without saying goodbye?" Carl had followed us
out, so we all gave him a big hug and told him goodbye, again
promising to come back soon. Carol hugged me and got in her car that
was parked right outside the door. I walked with Mary to her car,
gave her a quick kiss and a big hug and then she headed off to the
office.
I got in my car and was going to head straight home, but then
thought of Mimi. Her shop was kind of on the way home, so I decided
to stop by and visit with her, if the shop wasn't busy. When I got
to Mimi's, she didn't have a customer right at that instant but was
expecting one in just a few minutes, so we sat and talked until she
showed up. Actually, Mimi did most of the talking about how good I
looked. I told her that the makeup and the hair had been done by
Glamour Shots, and she replied that all that looked very nice, but
that the total look came from me and it was excellent. She also told
me that when Mary and I had stopped by yesterday, no one who had seen
us in the shop could tell that we weren't exactly what we appeared to
be: two ladies headed out to go shopping. We hadn't created much of
a stir after all. While we were talking, all of the women in the
shop had gotten the word about me from the manicurists and everyone
was checking me out. I noticed a couple of them looking at me and
smiling, so I smiled right back, and one of the women complimented me
on how feminine my appearance was on her way out. Needless to say,
by the time I left, my ego was a couple of sizes bigger than when I
had arrived! From Mimi's, I headed home.
Once I arrived home, I took a couple of pictures of my own and
then changed into a pair of pink cotton shorts, a white tank top and
white huaraches: comfy clothes. I took off all the stage makeup from
Glamour Shots and my wig, poured myself some iced tea and sat down to
just read, relax and "vege out" for a couple of hours. At five
o'clock, I started to get ready to go out to dinner with Susan, a TS
friend of mine whom I had initially met three years ago as my boss,
Rick. I took a bath, did my own makeup and wig and put on my new
purple suit with matching hose and gold dressy flats. I said goodbye
to Bev and headed for Steak And Ale to meet Susan for dinner. I was
a few minutes early and had a seat in the bar to wait. I ordered a
margarita and opened my purse to pay. The bartender had a big smile
on her face and winked when she handed me my drink and took the
money. I smiled right back, since I assumed the smile meant that she
approved of something about me. Susan arrived shortly after that,
and we were shown to our table. This was Susan's first time to meet
me en femme, and she was duly complimentary. She's had almost half a
year of RLT and looks very good herself. We had a very pleasant
evening, talking about a lot of things, including people at work, the
local gender community and her upcoming surgery at year-end. She has
found a doctor in Belgium that is highly recommended by other TS's in
our area, and even with doctor's costs, air fare, hospital and hotel
stay, the total fee to go to Belgium is still several thousand dollars
less than any doctor in the U.S. And our mutual friend, Ruth, has
volunteered to act as a recuperative nurse for her once Susan gets
back from Belgium. Susan had a full day on Monday and a long drive
home, so we parted company about 9:00 after many big hugs and promises
to keep in touch. After Susan left, I waved at the bartender on my
way out to see if she still remembered me. She evidently did,
because she smiled and waved for me to come back into the
now-deserted bar. Never one to pass up an opportunity to talk to a
good-looking woman, I went in and had a seat at the bar again.
I introduced myself and she did likewise; her name was Sandra.
She wanted to talk to me because she said that she had seen many of
the daytime talk shows about crossdressers and transsexuals and other
gender folk, and she was really fascinated by the whole thing. So I
had a beer (on the house) and proceeded to give her my by-now
standard lecture on sex and gender and the world in general. She
said that my appearance and everything else was truly feminine, which
of course prompted me to ask how she knew I wasn't really a woman.
She said that my voice and my height were clues, but what had really
clinched it was that she had seen my driver's license earlier when I
took out my wallet to pay. I guess I really do need to go down and
get an alternate license done en femme (Texas allows that) if I'm
going to be spending much time that way in public with my wallet
open. I spent a very nice hour with her until closing time, at which
point she asked me to wait around while she closed up so we could
walk out to our cars together. "We girls can't be too careful at
night, you know," she said with a grin. Since the bar hadn't been
very busy, it didn't take her very long to finish and close out her
register. We walked out to my car since it was closer to the door,
and she thanked me for spending time with her and answering her
questions. I thanked her for her honesty and her openness. She then
gave me a long hug and kissed my cheek and wanted me to promise to
come back next time I was out "all dolled up". I told her that I
would do my best, but I couldn't guarantee when that might be. I got
in my car, but waited until she got to hers before leaving. She
waved goodbye as she started up and drove away. I drove back home, a
very tired but very happy lady. Once I got there, I took off all the
finery and scrubbed my face before putting on my teal satin
nightshirt and crawling into bed. Then I realized that I hadn't
asked Bev to take the dogs out, so I got up, put on my gold slippers
and a pair of shorts under the nightshirt and took the beasts out
around the block. By the time I got back and collapsed into bed
again, I had no trouble dropping off and sleeping all night long.
I took a day of vacation on Monday and slept in until about ten
in the morning. The day was rainy and dismal outside, and I was all
by myself in the house since Bev had gone to work. I made myself
some coffee and had a bagel while sitting in the kitchen in my
nightshirt and slippers, just enjoying the morning. Since the weather
was lousy and everybody was at work or out of town, I decided to just
stay home and play dress-up and take some pictures. So, I took a
long bubble bath and shaved my legs again before putting on my makeup
and then killing most of the afternoon modeling several fabulous
outfits for myself and the camera. Bev got home about 5:30, and I
went in to talk to her for a little while. She had talked with
Christine during the day about our visit on Saturday, and said that
Christine's greatest fear had nothing to do with my crossdressing;
Christine's immediate fear upon seeing a strange blonde woman leaving
our house when Cyndi was out of town was that I was having an
affair. She told Bev that she was very relieved to find out that I
was not being unfaithful, but that I was only a crossdresser! Bev
asked if I wanted to go out to get something to eat, since she and I
hadn't really had much of a chance to do anything together during the
weekend. I accepted her offer, and we decided to go to a nice
Italian restaurant in the mall closest to the house. I put on a
short white denim skirt and a green silk blouse with white flats and
freshened up my makeup, while Bev changed out of her work clothes
into jeans and a blouse. We drove to the mall and walked to the
restaurant, doing a little window-shopping on the way. The
restaurant was almost deserted and we had an uneventful supper, and
although I'm certain that our waitress knew there was something
different about us, she was always courteous. I asked Bev if it
bothered her to be seen in public with me, even when I didn't always
pass. She said that she didn't have any problem with other people's
attitude, and that if I didn't feel uncomfortable with a given
situation, then she didn't either. We left the restaurant and the
mall and drove home. Once there, Bev said good night and went to her
room, and I started the process of removing my acrylic nails (but
leaving my toes painted) so that I could go back to work the next day.
It didn't take long, and I finished the evening by taking off my
makeup and taking a long shower. I put on my robe and slippers and
watched TV for a while. After the news, I changed into shorts and a
tank top to walk the dogs, and then I put on my nightgown and hit the
sack.
Although my full-time femme time weekend was now over, I still
spent the remaining evenings after work at home in at least a partial
feminine mode. Bev said she had some problems with the partial
presentation; she had no problems with my full-fledged female
appearance but the in-between appearance was unsettling to her. So,
those times when I wasn't 100 percent femme, I avoided disturbing her.
Of course, I slept in a nightgown every night. Finally, after a week
of slowly winding down and disengaging from the feminine life, I took
the polish off my toes, put all the makeup and the clothes and the
shoes back in their places and picked up my wife at the airport. My
fabulous weekend was officially over, but so were my nights of
sleeping alone.
Jami Ward