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Date: Fri, 17 Apr 1998 17:48:18 EDT
From: VickieTern <VickieTern@aol.com>
Subject: Flowers
TG: Flowers by Vickie Tern M/F Wife
No minors!
Flowers
by Vickie Tern
"Why are you changing your shirt? We're late as it is!
They're expecting us!" My wife, a little exasperated, her eyes
snapping.
"Sara!" Me, also a little exasperated, feeling pressured from two
directions. "I can't go like this! I'm still wearing my bra!
They might see! You're always worried about the neighbors, what
will the neighbors think? Well, this is a thin shirt! I'll just
be a min...."
"Stop! Larry, don't you unbutton another button! Come on, we're
late! You want to wear bras and panties and slips and so on around
the house all the time, women's underwear, suit yourself! Sneak
around looking like a cutey pie girly all you want! I don't care
any more, I've finally gotten used to it. Even to seeing you every
night in your study all dressed up with no place to go because you
don't dare leave the house! I don't care!"
"But you know that Eva is always prompt, and that she expects
everyone else to be prompt, and that we're right next door so we
have no excuse not to be prompt! So here, push that shirt back in
your pants and put this blazer on to cover those boobs and you'll
be presentable enough. It's only the two of us and the two of
them. Who'll notice anything?"
So we crossed through the gap in the shrubs into their back yard.
As you'd expect, the scene was set for a standard summer back yard
barbecue. The grass was fresh cut today, perfectly flat and even,
and it still smelled new-mown. Herb was proud of that lawn. I'd
heard his mower going all morning while I was behind drawn shades
trying on two darling end-of-season-clearance dresses I'd just
bought, and a long skirt I thought really elegant. I was trying to
think through how I should accessorize them, whether now I needed
some new jewelry to set them off.
But it was getting to be a hot day, and with the shades down the
house was heating up, and so was I, and the last thing I wanted was
perspiration stains on my new dresses. I'd barely begun to enjoy
them in my mirror. So I put them away and I wiped off my lipstick.
I know, you don't need make-up to try on a dress, but wearing
make-up I really do look "cutey-pie girly" as Sara likes to put it.
Without make-up my man's face looks strange above my lace-fringed
collars and draped bodices. So I wiped off my lipstick and opened
the shades and looked out.
By then Herb and his weedwacker were levelling off the last edges
of grass along his annual flower bed. He was even more proud of
his garden than of his lawn -- it was heavy with color most of the
summer, but the annual beds were especially dense now, toward the
end of the season. We'd had flowers from that bed on our dinner
table and in the living room practically the whole summer. Sara
had permission to go over and pick whatever she wanted -- "Many
flowers like to be picked," Herb had said. "Then they can branch
out and set even more buds. It's a rule of nature." Sara had
looked embarrassed when he said that. She didn't like to accept
gifts from anyone, but she couldn't refuse that kind of gift.
So a few times each week for the past few months or so she'd gone
over and selected flowers from his garden and made bouquets and
floral arrangements, and we'd enjoyed them. She'd even started
putting vases of fresh-cut flowers in my study, my "boudoir" she
called it acidly, where sometimes I did office-work evenings but
mostly I dressed up and made myself pretty. As a man I thought
flowers in the house were nice enough, but as a girl I was thrilled
to be surrounded by them. I loved them, and I especially
appreciated having beautiful flowers to pose with in the room when
I was all dressed as if to go out, before finally I had to undress
and put everything away again. They helped me feel more feminine,
more lady-like. I didn't mind at all one day a couple of months
ago when I came home and found the room really filled with them,
tiers and sprays and billows of color everywhere. "They're Herb's
gift just for you this time," was how Sara explained it. "He says
the way flowers are, it doesn't cost him anything, and you may as
well enjoy them in here when you're doing whatever you do in here."
When we arrived on Herb and Eva's turf Eva was setting the picnic
table for the four of us, using her best china and crystal, as was
usual for her. We always use paper plates for cook outs. But "If
you've got it, use it," Herb said the first time I commented on
their odd custom. "That's what I say and that's what I do!" And
I had to admit, it was nice dining in elegant formality on the
grass under the trees while the sun was setting slowly behind us,
and the birds were twittering in the early gloom up top. It was
nice to enjoy nature and civilized sophistication both at once.
I saw that Herb was already in his barbecue action station, a far
corner of his garden where the wind wouldn't blow smoke on us. He
was laying steaks on the grill.
"Hi, Larry!" he called out, waving a long barbecue fork. "Be with
you soon!" I nodded back at him and waved a bottle of Bourbon I
was carrying. Sara went over to talk to him.
"Here, Larry," Eva said. "Bring that inside and fix yourself a
drink, and fix Sara one too. Then help me carry out some more
things. And for goodness sake, take off that jacket and relax! It
was 90 degrees at noon today!"
She'd set up a bar in the glass-enclosed sun room facing their rear
lawn, where silver chafing dishes were being heated. Talk about dining
in style? But it was intolerably hot, what with the afternoon sun
still pouring in! I saw that their ice bucket was already half-melted.
I burst into a sweat and was almost immediately soaked.
"Here, let me take that blazer off you this minute -- no back
talk," Eva said from behind me. I felt her seize my jacket by the
collar with both hands and start to pull it off.
I tried to resist -- I was wearing only that thin white shirt over
my bra, and the shirt was already wet and clinging, and the bra
just underneath was a cascade of flowery lace -- there was no way
it could stay hidden. No good! She had it off me!
"What's this?" I heard Eva say. "Are those bra straps? Let me
look!"
She came around in front of me and stared at my flowery mounds.
"Sure enough!"
She broke out into a delighted smile. "Well, well, Larry! What a
secret! You too! I know so many gay men! And gay women too! In
fact tomorrow morning I'm off for four days with Patricia Frye, you
know her? The dancer? I'll be doing press and publicity for her,
and we always share a hotel room on the road! Hardly any breasts,
but what thighs! I could eat her up! I have, too, a few times!
You didn't know that about me? Herb doesn't mind. As long as it's
not another man, he says."
Eva wasn't just babbling this incredible self-revelation. She was
deliberately sharing it with me, so I'd feel a little better that
she'd inadvertently exposed what was obviously for me a
devastatingly shameful secret. She was watching me closely all the
while she spoke, giving me a chance to recover from my paralyzing
embarrassment. When she saw me finally take a deep breath she
walked over to hang my coat on a peg, still watching me, waiting
for me to say something.
"I'm not gay, Eva. I'm a transvestite, I guess. And... and...
please don't tell Herb! He's a friend, I'd feel so ashamed! I
can't help it! But I just...like it!"
She came back and pushed a damp lock of hair off of my forehead.
"I know, baby, I know! You don't have to tell me anything! I work
all the time with artists and performers of all kinds, and believe
me, they come in all kinds. Don't worry. Maybe you'll want to
take that bra off now, if you don't want Herb to see it."
I did just that, feeling better every moment, even though Eva was
watching me carefully the whole time. In some ways I was
enormously relieved that someone else besides Sara finally knew
and wasn't at all bothered. It made me feel more normal. By Eva's
lights, I was normal. Not even different!.
She reached for my bra and examined it. "Very pretty, Larry! But
only 'A' cups? With your build, you easily need a 'B,' even a 'C'
in some models. Don't you have breast forms? Or are you only now
starting hormones? I know a wonderful endocrinologist, if you've
wanted to try having your own boobs but feel a little shy. Make
yourself a drink, please, Larry. And Sara's too, if you know what
she likes, now that I see she's coming back from chatting with
Herb. "
She folded the bra and tucked it snug into my jacket pocket for me,
all without breaking conversational stride.
"Tell me, dear, how do you know you're not gay? Ever tried it?
Herb says he could be gay with the right kind of person, under the
right circumstances, or so he claims when we get to talking about
how I swing both ways. And Herb is all man, and loves women!
Trust me, I know what I'm saying! It would be fun sometime, seeing
him make it with a man! I wonder if the man would feel the same
way about him women usually do. Oh, don't be shocked, Herb loves
me, but I know he spreads the wealth around, and that's only fair,
seeing as how I do too with women who interest me. Tell me, what
does Sara think of all this?"
I started to put ice cubes into glasses with tongs, grateful to
have an excuse not to look up. "Eva, I've never tried gay sex.
Men just don't attract me. Women do. I love everything feminine,
that's my problem. And I'm true to Sara! Though she doesn't think
so. She thinks I'm unfaithful to her with some kind of woman
inside me, and she resents it." I filled my glass first with ice
and then with Bourbon, and then I splashed Sara's glass.
"Really? How very gothic! In love with a succubus who lives
inside you and possesses you. Like in a B horror movie. I really
must have a talk with her some time! Do you dress up completely,
lipstick and everything? Do you go out en femme?" She paused and
looked at me the way women look at themselves in mirrors. "I'll bet
with the right hair style you'd look gorgeous! I know a wonderful
hairdresser...."
"Is that drink for me?"
Sara! I handed her her drink without a word. How much
of any of this had she heard? I still couldn't meet anyone's eyes,
so I turned to watch the thick smoke pour out of Herb's grill and
drift skyward.
"Would you two mind carrying out these chafing dishes? Careful,
they're hot. I'll go in and take some things off the stove --
our cookouts are not at all as primitive as Herb likes to
pretend. I should judge from all that smoke we're just about
ready."
We gathered at the wooden-slatted picnic table, and ate delicious
dishes one after another off of Herb's and Eva's delicate bone
china, and washed down Herb's burnt but bloody steaks with a very
fine Margaux poured into crystal wine glasses, and we made lively
conversation about the commerce of art, and tricking flowers
into winter bloom, and Eva's upcoming trip, and no one said anything
about Eva's bed-companion for her trip, or my brassiere. Then in
the dark Sara and I crossed back into our garden.
"I see you're not wearing your bra now," Sara said as soon as we
were inside the house. "Did you feel compelled to bare your
nipples to Eva, that you had to take it off in front of her?"
"No, she took my jacket and saw it under my shirt, and suggested I
remove it before the rest of the world saw it too. Namely Herb.
She was trying to save me further humiliation."
"Too bad! I'd hoped she'd see and you'd feel ashamed, so you'd
give up this... thing of yours. I'd hoped Herb would see it too,
so you'd know what a wimp sissy you are compared with him, and know
that he knows it too. It would have served you right. And I
heard what you said about not being gay, and what Eva said about
not knowing till you've tried it. I've wondered about you that way
too!" She suddenly realized she'd gone too far, and lapsed into
silence.
I turned to Sara angrily. "You deliberately exposed me in order to
humiliate me, when I've told you repeatedly that I am the way I am
and didn't choose it and can't change it, only at best suppress it
and then live a half a life, and I don't choose to do that! Now
how can I ever trust you in anything?"
I'd gone too far with that last too, but I couldn't withdraw it.
"You can't!" Sara shot right back at me.
Then she realized she'd gone way too far. "I'm sorry, Larry,"
she said much more gently. "I didn't mean that."
"Me neither," I said, trying to match her conciliatory half-lie
with mine. Then I went on. "You did hear Eva offer to talk to you
about this. She seems to be familiar with people like me. It
might help you to hear her out, whatever she means to say."
"Eva and I have already scheduled a luncheon for Friday, when she's
back from her trip. We'll talk about lots of things I suspect. I'm
really relieved in a way to hear that she sleeps around a lot, and
that Herb doesn't mind."
"Only with women," I said. I was so grateful that our sudden
summer storm had blown over that I was only half-hearing what she
was saying. "I just learned tonight that she screws other women,
or whatever women do, and apparently so does Herb, and
neither of them minds as long as they're also true to each other in
their fashion. Why are you relieved to hear that? Because you
thought her infidelities might be endangering their marriage?"
"Something like that," Sara said. "Would you bring the trash out
front before we go upstairs? Tomorrow's collection day."
I dressed up every day after work that week, and Sara never said a
word about it, glancing at me in my female finery and then chatting
with me as if I were wearing blue jeans. All week I felt
wonderfully liberated, after years and years of isolation, and
unease, and shame, and guilt, and fear, now that someone else knew
about my desires and didn't think them peculiar. I thought of
joining a local crossdresser support group, but I couldn't risk
maybe meeting someone who knew me. My fantasy roamed. I thought
about taking hormones, at least to develop breasts more appropriate
for my figure, but I knew I'd never do anything about it. I imagined
that a good fairy had finally turned me into a real woman, the way
Pinocchio became a real boy, and that then Sara loved me even more
than before. That was my favorite reverie, and my mind played many
variations on it.
On Friday evening I was in my study gorgeously done up in a black
dress with black stockings and a pencil-thin skirt and an oversized
brocade jacket and high, high heels, really tastefully made up. My
hair for once had brushed out from their curlers into a luxuriant
coiffure instead of gathering as usual into a crown of bumps and
waves. I felt quite beautiful. So instead of preparing figures
for the company's third quarter report, I was perched on the couch
at my ease, a glamorous woman paging through ads in Vogue magazine,
admiring the women in them and wishing I were one of them.
Sara came in and looked at me. "Really lovely, Larry. I mean
Laura, that's your femme name? Laura, you're looking quite nice.
Were you planning to go out tonight?"
"No, this is just an old house dress," I stammered, trying to cover
my pleasure that Sara had actually complimented me, even though she
had also teased me and might not have meant the compliment. "Did
you have your lunch with Eva today?"
"Yes, I did," she said, sitting down next to me and looking me
straight in the eyes. Her eyes were beautiful, almond shaped and
deep blue, and her eyeliner and mascara and shadow deepened them
until I felt I'd get lost if I kept looking. I loved her! She saw
it in my eyes, and she smiled back at me that she loved me too. My
heart rose up. I noticed that she was made up as carefully as I
was, and was as nicely dressed. Did this mean she expected us to
go out this evening as two girls together? I certainly wasn't
ready for that! Probably she was still dressed from her luncheon
with Eva. I waited to hear what else she was willing to tell me
about it.
"She's off again on another trip now," she went on. "Just for the
weekend this time."
"She leaves Herb alone a lot," I said to keep the conversation
going, especially about the injustices men suffer at the hands of
their women.
"Herb's never alone," Sara replied. Then, "It was a real
good talk Eva and I had, all about what's good for everybody. She
knows a lot about a lot. Even about you, and people like you."
"Oh?"
"Yes, She told me everything you've told me about transvestites,
and transsexuals, and the differences, and a lot more. And she
told me I was silly for not wanting to enjoy the many more things
we share than ordinary men and women do. She got me thinking about
sharing all of my feminine pleasures with you. I'm sorry, dear,
for all the time I've spent resenting that you're the way you are,
when we could have been enjoying ourselves together if I'd
approached the problem a little differently.:
"Oh?"
"Yes. Eva and I had a real hen-fest. It was mutual confession
time. She told me about all the effeminate men she'd slept with
before she decided just to settle in with Herb, a real man's man,
and to satisfy her other needs with real women. She said she just
might break her rule and sleep with you when you're dressed as a
woman, because you seem to be more than effeminate. You understand
how women feel about many things that seem trivial to men. Clothes,
flowers, feelings, you know. You share their feelings. She
says you're genuinely feminine, she's always thought so, even
though you're also a man, which can be advantagous in bed when you
also like men the way she does."
I sat silent. I had manicured my nails just an hour earlier, and
was admiring their long, smooth red ovals, and was just listening.
What was her point? Was she inviting me to take up with Eva en
femme?
"She told me that from the beginning of their marriage Herb has
always had the same freedom she's had to take up with other women,
and that there've never been any problems. Until recently. She
said though that all through this summer Herb has been
involved with some one woman in particular. It was starting to
worry her for the first time, because she did deeply love him, and
would never want to leave him, and she hoped he still felt the same
way."
I listened.
"'That's the same way I deeply love Larry,'" I told her. "'And the
same way I would never want to leave Larry no matter what. The
same way I hope he feels.'"
I couldn't say anything now. I took her hand and held it in both
of my own hands. I was choked up.
"And then I reassured her. I told not to worry, that I was the woman
Herb had been sleeping with since last Spring. Exclusively, I was
sure, because we were meeting so very often and each session was so
... exhausting for both of us. That her marriage was perfectly
safe, so far as I was concerned. That I hoped mine was as safe."
"Eva said she knew, or had suspected as much, but that she'd had
to hear it from me. And then she cried, just a little. It was so
sweet! Then we talked about you, how to keep you safe for me, even
from her, and still keep everyone happy."
I was still holding Sara's hand. I didn't dare look up into her
deep blue eyes now, even though I knew they were staring
into my face. I didn't dare let myself look anywhere or feel
anything, not just yet. I touched one of her fingernails gently.
Then I said as quietly as I could,
"You've been sleeping with Herb?"
"No more often than you've been sleeping with yourself, Larry, and
for nowhere near as long. Only since last Spring. For years I've
seen you sometimes pulling up your skirts and then making nice to
yourself in the mirror. So last Spring when Herb came on to me
very strong, I mean that man is nearly irresistible when he starts
in, I thought to myself, well, if you can take a lover, I can take
a lover too!"
"It isn't the same thing!"
"Isn't it? It seemed to me to be the same thing, at the time."
"It's deception! It's cheating on me!"
"Oh, come on Larry! I'm sorry, honey, I mean Laura. Think about
it. Don't tell me you didn't know! Or at least suspect! All
those fresh flowers in the house all summer? You thought I picked
them? Who do you think brought them each time he came over here?
And filled my arms with them to take back whenever I went over
there?"
It hadn't occurred to me. I should have known. But it had never
occurred to me!
"You directly benefitted from his gratitude the day I offered
him my virginity. What I had left of it, you know what I mean, my
rear opening, my anus, where you wanted to poke into me when we
were first married, and then when I wouldn't let you
you quit trying. You remember? I'm sure you do. Well, I
decided one delirious day that I wanted Herb to take that part of me
as a gift, and bury himself in me there! And he did. It was so
beautiful an experience for both of us that he told me he wanted to
fill your study with flowers in gratitude, since he'd taken
something of yours, so you'd feel something of the happiness he
felt. I told him to go ahead. You deserved at least that, it
seemed to me, since now you'd never have what I'd just given him.
I'd felt like a bride in Herb's arms. He took all afternoon making
bouquets and floral arrangements and setting them up in here for
you."
I had to say something! "He was in this room? He saw my things
here?"
"Oh, Larry! I mean Laura! My sweet Laura! He already knew! He
didn't need to peek into your closets! You do leave things lying
all around. Anyhow, he'd already seen you all dressed up
earlier. When I first told him about you, while we were lying in
each other's arms and waiting for him to get stiff again, and while
he was doing wonderful things to my breasts with his tongue and to
my pussy with his fingertips, he told me he'd once seen you
prancing around in here in full drag, last Spring when you forgot
to draw the shades. He thought at first you were really a woman,
until he saw you tuck your hand under your mini and start pulling
on yourself. That's how he first figured I might be feeling a little
neglected, the way he likes to put it that I might be feeling like
a flower that wants to be plucked. If that's the word!"
She smiled to herself.
I didn't know what to say. "You told him about me?" I asked
lamely? "When you were fucking him?"
She didn't bother to answer me at first. Instead she detached my
hands, stood up, and glanced at the clock on my desk. "Certainly
not while we were fucking, no! In between, when he asked me about
you."
She looked again at the clock, then squared away to face me
directly. "What do you expect? A man gives a woman perhaps the
most tremendous fuck of her life, and his cum is still pouring
out of her, and he's already beginning to harden up for another go
at it, and he asks me about that yellow beaded dress he saw on you
that night, how come he's never seen me wear it to the Club or the
Gallery or anywhere else we're always running into each other. He
told me he thought it would look stunning on me, even
better than it did on you! So I had to tell him it was your dress,
not mine, that we didn't swap clothes ever. And I told him all the
rest of it. Laura, when a man is about to push his penis back into
you, and you're all loose and soaked and slick from just before,
and you're still breathing hard from before, you just don't feel
like holding back any secrets? You feel like pulling him
back into you and loving him and kissing him and opening every part
of yourself to him. Wouldn't you feel that way, if you were me?
You're supposed to be partly a woman! Don't you feel that way
sometimes?"
Finally I could speak. "Wouldn't I? Don't I? You know I've never
been with a man! What are you talking about?"
I couldn't think straight or see straight. Visions of Herb and my
wife slick with each other's perspiration in our bed upstairs, or
in his bed! His cock in my wife's anus, sliding in and out, her
gift to him, a beautiful experience she called it! His jism
pouring out of her, out of her dear pussy, out of her rear end.
Maybe even Sara sucking on his cock, though she'd never been
willing to suck on mine, not even to kiss it. Herb feeling way
superior to me, maybe pitying me, also feeling a little
contemptuous that I'm not man enough for my own wife.
She picked up her purse, then set it down again. "We won't need
purses tonight, it's just next door. Come on, honey, we're already
late! Laura, come on! No, you're dressed fine, just the way you
are! Yes, we're going! Yes, you heard me, it's time for Laura to
meet Herb. No, stop it! Listen!"
"Even before Eva mentioned it, Herb had already asked me if he
could make love to you and me together, then just to you alone,
after we've done our own wonderful things with each other of
course. You'll see, Herb can get me to do almost anything. But
somehow I've never been able to put his penis in my mouth, no more
than I could ever do it with yours. Herb is sure that a woman's
mouth can bring him up hard, again and again, quicker than anything
else. So he wondered if you'd be more willing than I am to to try
it. To be my 'designated cock sucker' -- he said you'd know what
that means. You could help him satisfy me, and then help him
satisfy us. Then, the way you looked in that beaded dress, he
wants to be the first man into your rear end too, same as mine. He
thinks you're incredibly attractive as a girl. He says I've been
mistaken not to encourage you to be more of a girl more often, and
to use you more often as a girl."
"And maybe he's right. You really are rather pretty, Laura. You
know? I've never wanted to tell you that before, because I've
always resented it. I've wanted to think I'd married a man. I
did, of course. But you could also be a real doll, once you've
been to a proper hairdresser. And you will be a real doll, honey,
because I've already made an appointment for you for tomorrow
morning with Eva's hairdresser. Herb wants you to have a style
more like Eva's than like mine, and I agree, and so does Eva. It
would be just right for your face, very flattering. You'll
love it! And I know that after tonight you won't mind looking
feminine all the time. That's an effect Herb has on women after he
makes love to them. You'll even find that when you make love as a
woman you're more passionate than you are as a man -- women do tend
to be more emotional you know. Maybe you'll even want to go all
the way and live full time as a woman. I wouldn't mind it any
more, if that's what you want. I'd even help you!"
"But sweetheart, don't worry, for tonight you look just fine!
Your hair is lovely, really. Tonight we're just two attractive
girls and one eager guy, three people who intend to enjoy each other
all night long. No, don't look confused or angry. That's what we
are! Herb said that when you've thought about it a minute, when
you think about what's been happening and what could happen, what
we already know about each other, what we could any of us do at any
time with what we know, especially if other people don't see things
the way we see them, what each of us stands to lose, he thinks
you'll be glad to join us tonight. In fact he's sure of it."
"Please, Laura? Honey? I'm counting on it too! You don't know
yet, but Herb is really very nice! You really can't help loving
him, all the things he knows how to do to a girl! Then when Eva
gets back, she'll join in if you're a part of it! You're
what all three of us want! And this is what you've always wanted too,
way down under, isn't it Laura? Isn't it? You know it is! You
know Herb is right! Just think about it. I really don't think
you have any choice! I'm sure you don't!"
"Then think about this. After tonight, Laura my darling, I'll be
happy to share my whole wardrobe with you! And I'll be happy to
help you shop for lots more things. And to fix you up with
hormones the way Eva offered, if you really want your very own
real breasts, the kind any man can adore. And to introduce
you to some of the other guys I've slept with during the past few
years, ever since I first saw you wearing your cutey pie girly
things. After tonight you'll know for sure that we've got the most
secure and loving and sharing marriage in the world. So there's
really no reason at all for you not to come with me now! You can't
not!"
Sara reached out and took my hand again, my pretty manicured hand
with the shapely red fingernails, and she tugged gently on it until
finally I stood up. I reached down and straightened my skirt. It
really was a little tight, that black skirt. It occurred to me
that I might need to lose weight before I could wear it again. Eva
could advise me -- her figure was perfect, what I'd seen of it so far.
End
(c) 1997 by Vickie Tern. May be archived and single-copied, not sold.