Another New Year

Time has gone by so quickly, again.  It was over four years ago when Christie handed me her panties at a local bar and told me to go put them on.  I know I’ve said this before, but it really is amazing to think of how things have changed since I nervously did what she asked, going into the restroom and putting on her panties.   So this year, as Christie and I thought about the last four years and talked about the future, we made a few resolutions.  Neither of us are big “New Year’s Resolution” people, but we decided there were a few things we’d make a bit of an effort to do.

I couldn’t think of another way to say it, so I resolved to make a deliberate effort to do something feminine more often.  I already wear panties and a bra every day, keep my toes painted, my body shaved, and use feminine deodorant and shampoo and the like.   So I promised to be better at getting my hair color touched up more often, getting my brows waxed more regularly, and the like.  Of course, I promised to document it more frequently in this blog than I have.

I think the first adventure of the year involved a Christmas present that Christie gave me.  We were out one day last fall, and saw a woman wearing the cutest pair of pants.  They were black, wide-leg pants with a very sexy slit up the side.  So Christie ordered a pair for me for Christmas.  They fit really well, but were quite a bit long.  So Christie helped me find a shop that did alterations.  Last week, after work, I checked the shop’s hours and drove over with my new pants.  I was coming straight from work, so was in guy clothes, with no makeup.  I walked in and the lady who ran the shop greeted me.  I explained that I needed some pants shortened by three inches (Christie though that would be enough).  As the woman laid out the pants on the counter to measure, she asked “are these yours?”  Without thinking, I answered “they are.”  She looked up from her measuring, smiled, and said “Oh.  They are very cute.”  She measured off three inches, marked them, and told me they would be ready in a few days.

pantsI returned the next Tuesday, again after work.  The lady greeted me and handed me the pants on a hanger.  She hesitated for a bit, then asked “Do you want to try them on, to be sure?”  I was really tempted to say “no, they’ll be fine,” but I didn’t.  I said “I would love the try them on.”  She showed me to her changing room.  I changed into the newly altered pants.  When she asked me if I was ready, I said “I am.”  She pulled aside the curtain and took a look, and then asked me to turn around.  “Do you want to try them with heels?  There are a few pairs there.”  She pointed along the wall.  They all seemed to be pretty large, I suppose to accommodate anyone who might need them.  I stepped into a pair.  She reached over, holding the pant leg out to the side, and let it drop,  “I think those will be just perfect.  You have very nice legs.”  She left, closing the curtain.  My heart was racing.  I changed, went back to the counter and paid.  The woman invited me to bring anything else I needed altered to her and thanked me.


Thanksgiving with Lauren

Christie left for two weeks on the Monday before Thanksgiving, so I’d been on my own for a few days.  She still texted or called every day.  She’s on the east coast, so she could message me in the morning, and when I got up a few hours later, I could read it.  Of course, she sent me a note every morning, telling me what pair of panties and bra to wear, so we would always be wearing matching lingerie.

So on Wednesday, she instructed me to wear the white bra and thong set she’d given me.  I knew that it would be a casual day at work, so I put on some women’s trouser socks, jeans, and a dark blue dress shirt.  I grabbed a casual black blazer jacket, too, to make sure the bra wasn’t visible.

I spent most of the day at work in the warehouse, doing inventory, so I swapped the jacket for a hoodie with the company logo on it.  There weren’t many people working, and just after lunch, word came around that a group was planning on going to a local pizza place for happy hour after work.  I had no other plans, so I thought I’d drop in.

The pizza place has a large outdoor patio that they had set aside for us.  It has a few heaters, and a roof, so it was comfortable.  I decided to stick with the hoodie.  I got there, looked around for people I knew, and saw my co-worker Lauren waving me over.  We work in different departments, but you may remember from earlier posts that we’d traveled together to a conference once, and she knew about my dressing.  I got to the table, where she and a few women from her department were sitting.  I knew a couple of them.  Lauren gave me a hug, and left one hand lingering on my back, kind of rubbing my back where my bra was, as she introduced me to her co-workers.

I had just sat down with them, when our waitress came over and asked, “what can I get you ladies?”  Two of the women looked at me and giggled, but I made a gesture to Lauren as if to say ‘you go first’ and the moment passed.  She took orders around the table, and got to me.

“And for you, miss?” she asked.  Everyone giggled, so I tried to smile.  The woman before me had ordered a beer, so I just said “I’ll have the same, please.”

The evening went on uneventfully.  Whenever the waitress returned, she’d check if anyone needed refills on drinks, usually calling me “honey.”  Lauren occasionally put her hand on my back as she told her friends about the last time we went out.  (She left out that I had been wearing a skirt and heels.)  Eventually, people started to leave, and Lauren and I were the last at the table.

“What are you up to for Thanksgiving,” she asked.  I told her that I didn’t really have any plans this year.  “I don’t either,” she replied.  “I’m not crazy about turkey dinner, but I hate to just sit at home.  Do you want to go out for dinner?”  I didn’t really like the idea of sitting at home, either, so I said yes.  Lauren said she’d find some place for us to go, and let me know.  We walked out of the pizza place, among the last to leave.

A few hours later, my phone rang.  It was Lauren.  “How about Roy’s?” she asked.  Roy’s is a Hawaiian fusion restaurant nearby.  I was surprised that they were doing a turkey dinner, but it sounded like a good place to go.  It has a nice bar, and great service.  Lauren hesitated, then told me that she wanted us to both dress up for dinner.  She must have sensed my hesitation, because she said “please?” in that way that someone does when they really, really want something.  I couldn’t refuse.  Lauren said she’d make the arrangements.

Of course, I texted Christy to let her know.  She was excited about me going out with Lauren again.  She suggested that I wear her dark green cocktail dress and the short jacket that goes with it.

The next day, as I was getting ready, I got another call from Christy.  I could tell she was trying to give me a little boost of courage before going out.  She decided I should wear the black padded bra, along with my “special” gaff.  She also had me wear a pair of black, lace top stockings, the style that stay up on their own.  She had gotten me a pair in size tall, so they were tall enough to stay hidden beneath the hem of the dress.  Christy also helped me with some makeup choices.

After showering and shaving everything carefully, I sat down and did my nails, using a dark maroon color that went nicely with the lip gloss Christy had chosen.  When my nails dried, I did my makeup and hair, and got dressed.  I put on the gaff, tucking my male parts securely away.  I put on the bra and silicone breast enhancers. The dress Christy loaned me had a v-style neckline,  so I managed to tug my chest together to create a bit of cleavage. I put on the stockings and a pair of black platform pumps.

Lauren made the reservations for 7:30, but wanted to meet at 6:30 for a drink.  I checked to see if any neighbors were out and about, and when I was satisfied the way was clear, I headed out to my car and to the restaurant.  I found parking right away – it didn’t seem as though many people were out.  I walked to the restaurant and went in.  The hostess looked up and greeted me, but before I had to say anything, I could see Lauren at the bar.  She waved me over, and we hugged.  She looked great, in a black satin and velvet dress.  Lauren complimented me on how I looked.  Our bartender, a very attractive woman with a mass of wavy red hair, came over.  Lauren introduced us, and she and took our drink order.  It was happy hour, so we ordered “Hawaiian” martini’s with vodka and pineapple juice, which turned out to be frighteningly easy to drink.

Lauren and I started talking, and before long, we were reordering drinks.  When the hostess came over to seat us, Lauren looked at me and said “let’s just stay here.”  Our bartender, Catherine was her name, told us that would be fine – the restaurant wasn’t busy, and we were welcome to sit at the bar and make a meal of the appetizers on happy hour special.

As we sat, I realized that Lauren and I were both getting a little giggly.  She was sitting very close to me, our legs and shoulders touching.  Every now and then, to emphasize something she said, she would either pat my thigh or put her hand on my forearm.

At one point, Lauren excused herself to the ladies’ room.  Catherine came over to me.  “Your friend is really into you, babe,” she said.  “You both look fantastic.”  She checked our drinks.  “Everything still good, here?”

“Everything is fine, I think.  This is a lot more fun than dinner.”  I said.  We chatted about the holiday.  Catherine, it seemed, volunteered to work because she wasn’t all that excited about Thanksgiving, either.

We stayed for another round or two of drinks and some dessert, before saying goodnight to Catherine.  As we walked out, we both realized we were in no shape to drive, so as we passed a taxi stand outside the restaurant, Lauren grabbed us a cab.  We decided to go to my place, since it was pretty close.

We got back to my apartment and went in, and collapsed on the couch.  We both kicked our heels off, and Lauren brought her knees up next to her.  She hugged me, leaned near my face, and told me what a wonderful time she had.  I put my arm around her, and we cuddled.  “Tonight was really special for me,” I told her.  “I can’t believe I felt so comfortable the whole night.”  Lauren kissed me and leaned onto my shoulder.

At some point, late, we decided it was time to sleep.  I found some extra pajamas for Lauren, and we undressed each other.  I was pretty nervous about where things were going, until I realized that we both had quite a bit to drink.  We were asleep in seconds.

The next morning, I woke up, and as quietly as I could, went to the kitchen and started coffee.  I was wearing a pair of flannel pajamas with pretty short bottoms.  Lauren came out a minute later, insisted that I didn’t wake her up, and very happy about the coffee.

We talked some more about what a wonderful night we both had, and made a plan to go get our cars.  I loaned Lauren a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt (her heels from last night were the only shoes she had, but made the outfit look pretty sexy).  I took a little longer to get ready, having to shave and put on a little makeup, before putting on a pair of leggings (mine had those cute sheer panels on the calves and thighs), a beige bra and a white hoodie.  Lauren got an Uber to take us back to the restaurant, where we found our cars not too far apart.  We kissed goodbye and went our separate ways.

My heart was pounding from excitement.  I couldn’t wait to tell Christy about our adventure when she got back.


A Very Special Gift, Part 2

(Here’s what happened after Christie presented me with my vagina gaff.  I apologize for the delay, but this took longer to write than I thought.  Christie and I have an amazing sex life, but she seldom lets me write about it in detail, so I had to be careful about how much I revealed.)

Christie and I headed out at a local restaurant that we like, and sat at the bar.  It was fairly busy, but the bartender was attentive.  We stayed for about two hours, had some wine, and talked.  Christie seemed chattier than usual (which is something – she’s always really outgoing, but tonight she just seemed excited and talkative).  We left and went back to Christie’s condo.

We parked her car, and walked arm in arm toward her door.  A neighbor of hers was outside, waved hello to Christie, adding “you girls look so nice!”

Christie opened her door and we went in.  She immediately spun me around, pinned me against the door, and kissed me.

“Oh my god, it was so hard trying to keep my hands off you!” she whispered.  She took me face in both hands and kissed me again.  “Come on,” she said, as she took my hands and led me toward her room.  We undressed each other quickly, leaving her wearing nothing and me in just my gaff.  She caressed it.  She told me she could hardly think of anything else all night.

She sat me on the bed, facing her, and we kissed and caressed each other.  She was becoming obviously much more excited, when she wriggled closed to me, scissoring our legs together.  She pushed her crotch forward to touch mine, and began to rub against me.  We continued to kiss as she coached me how she wanted me to move.  I’d seldom seen her this turned on.  I was excited, too, despite being snugly “tucked” into my gaff.  I felt dizzy.

Christie’s rubbing became more urgent until she climaxed in the most amazing way.  We held each other very close for a long time with Christie occasionally giggling.

After a while, she reached into her nightstand and got her (“our”) strap-on.  I helped her put it on.  She pulled off my gaff, and sat down facing me again, wriggling close enough to push the head of the strap-on in.  She leaned me back and adjusted my legs so she could push deeper.  Her tummy rubbed against me.  Within a few minutes, her thrusting became more urgent again, and she shuddered as she climaxed once again.  In the process, I had, too.  She collected it on her index finger, smiled, and put her finger into my mouth.

We were both exhausted, and pretty much passed out in each others’ arms.  We slept through the night, waking on Saturday morning.  I hadn’t brought a change of clothes with me, so when we got up, I put on one of Christie’s oversized t-shirts.  She loaned me  a pair of panties.  We made coffee, cuddled on the balcony of her condo, and talked about last night.

We made some plans for the weekend ahead.  I put on my bra and did my makeup, and Christie gave me a pair of her shorts to wear home.

I am still stunned at how amazingly turned on she got by me wearing that gaff.


A Very Special Gift

Christie texted me on Friday morning, and as usual let me know what we would be wearing in the way of underwear that day.  “Wear the lacy pink set,” were her instructions.  That meant, of course, that we would both  be wearing matching pink bras and panties.  It was a pretty uneventful day, and I was looking forward to leaving early.  Late in the afternoon, Christie texted again, and let me know that she wanted to go out that evening, and that she would drop by after work.

We had been going out pretty regularly for a while, but lately, both of us being busier than usual, we hadn’t.  So I was both looking forward to going out, and a little nervous, because I knew Christie would want me to dress up.  It had been just long enough for my nervousness about wearing women’s clothes and makeup in public to creep back.  But I knew it would be exciting, and that Christie would be there with me.

Christie arrived just after I got home.  She had a bag with her, and told me she would change while I got ready.  So I jumped into the shower, carefully shaved my body and washed my hair.  When I came out, Christie was waiting for me.

“I brought you a present,” she said.  She handed my a wrapped box, and motioned me to sit on the bed next to her.  As I unwrapped the box, she rubbed her hand on my freshly shaved legs.  “I saw this on the internet, and ordered it just for you.”

The box was pretty, and marked “Selene Smoothing Gaff.”  I was about to ask what it was, when Christie explained.  A gaff, she told me, is a kind of thong that men wear to keep their man parts tucked away when they dress like women.  “I know I like you to wear panties and sexy women’s’ underwear,” she added, “but this one is special.”

I opened the box, lifted up the tissue paper inside, and picked up the thong.  It was heavy, and I realized that it had a built-in vagina.  Christie explained that it was silicone, and had a very realistic shape to it.  She told me to put it on.

“I like it,” she said.  It was black, kind of see-through mesh, and held a soft silicone piece that looked like a vagina.  It was shaped to fit over my male parts.  “Not only do we both have no hair down there, but now we kind of look alike, too.”

“This will be for special occasions, I think.  I still like it when we wear matching panties and bras.  Wear this tonight, though,” she added.

I went on the dress, as did Christie.  She picked me out a black lace bra that matched hers, pair of black polyester pleated shorts, and shimmery gray top.  It was starting to cool off, so she handed me a pair of sheer pantyhose.  A pair of black pumps finished the outfit.  She put on a black romper and heels.

We did our makeup together, and she touched up my hair the way she likes it.

She looked me over as we headed out the door.  “You look hot, Gee,” she said.  She leaned in to kiss me lightly, and brushed her hand against my crotch.  “Very nice,” she said.

I’ll let you know how our night went.

A Night Out with Lauren

This had been an interesting week, I thought.  A few separate times, I had been unexpectedly mistaken for a woman in front of friends.  I say “unexpectedly” because each time, I wasn’t wearing or doing anything overtly feminine.  The first time, I was leaving the grocery store.  I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.  (I did have on panties and a bra.  Christie had texted me that morning, telling me to wear my blue bra and matching thong.  She makes sure we always wear matching underwear.)  I had run into a neighbor, and she and I were leaving the store when a woman stopped us.  “Ladies,” she asked, “would you like to add your signatures to a petition for this year’s election?”  When neither of us replied, she followed us for a bit, asking “Ladies?…Ladies?…”  I didn’t say anything, and neither did my neighbor, but I’m certain she noticed.

The next time was at work.  I was with two women from my work, walking down a corridor in a hotel where we were attending a seminar.  I was wearing a blazer over nice jeans.  My two co-workers both have red hair, and when we passed one of the hotel managers she said “Three redheads!  Ladies, you look like trouble!”  I think the three of us just smiled, but nobody mentioned anything.

The next day, back at the office, I was sitting outside at a break table with two co-workers.  One of them had been at the seminar I just mentioned.  It was chilly, so I threw on a company-logo sweatshirt to go outside.  We were talking when a UPS driver called to us from the sidewalk.  “Ladies!” he yelled, ” can you tell me where the delivery entrance is?”  One of my co-workers gave him quick directions.  “Thanks, ladies!” he yelled as he jogged off to his truck.  Neither woman said anything, but one of them seemed to stare for a bit.

Then, on Friday, I ran into Lauren.  After our encounter in the break room, we had gone for drinks.  I felt strangely at ease with her.  She started the conversation that night by apologizing for hugging me in the break room, which led to her discovering that I was wearing a bra.  As we talked at the pub, I found myself opening up to her.  I told her how my bra-wearing started.  I told her that Christie like it that the two of us wear matching bras and panties each day.  “Panties, too?” she asked.  When i told her yes, she got a sly look in her eye and asked to see.  We were in a corner of the pub, and I was able to discreetly pull up a corner of my shirt, showing the black lace of my panties.  I went on to describe some of my adventures with Christie.  Lauren seemed really supportive and open, and she shared some things about herself, too.

So last Friday, when I ran into her, she suggested we meet again for drinks.  I agreed right away.  Christie is out of town this week, and I didn’t want to stay home.  Then Lauren surprised me, and asked if I would dress up for her.  “Please?” she asked.  She smiled brightly when I agreed.

Black skirt
The skirt I wore on Friday

We met at a local restaurant that has a large, quiet bar.  I had been there before, with Christie, and the bartender remembered me.  We sat at a tall table near the end of the bar.  I had decided to wear a black skirt, red sleeveless top and a black sweater.  It was pretty warm in the bar, so I shrugged off the sweater.  Lauren looked great, wearing a floral-patterned dress and some very cool vintage oxfords.

We stayed at the bar for quite a while.  Lauren thanked me for dressing up for her.  As we talked, she asked me more about some of the things I’ve done with Christie.  I felt comfortable enough to pretty much tell her everything.  She was surprised when I told her about going out with Ed.  When I explained that I really wasn’t into guys, she said “well, at least we tried, right?”

She was curious about the sex, though.  Both about Christie and our strap-on (I told her how Christie sent me out to buy it.) and about sex with Ed.  She really wanted to know what anal felt like.  She said she was always curious, but had never done it.

I told her my first time with Christie felt weird and a little frightening, and how over time, it got much easier.  For me, now, it’s extremely erotic.   I feel it through my entire body.  When we talked about Ed, she asked me how big he was.  I told her how he was extremely well-endowed (at least compared to me) and how I wished he would have taken it more slowly.  I told her how, for me, the thing I noticed was that the initial penetration would cause a tight sensation in my throat, like what you feel after a bad scare. But it was an exciting feeling, not scary at all.

Toward the end of that conversation, Lauren looked around the mostly empty bar, then at me.  “I just totally lost track of who else might be near enough to hear us.  We just spent an hour talking about oral and anal sex.  Can you imagine what people might have overheard?”  She laughed.

I had a lot of fun that night, and Lauren and I promised to do it again, soon.

Girl Talk

At work just before the holidays, I found myself a little bit bored and decided to go to one of the company break rooms for some coffee.  When I got there, I was surprised to see just two other people.  Usually it’s always pretty busy.

One of the people there was a woman named Lauren.  I didn’t work with her all that much, but we had the opportunity about eighteen months ago to travel to a conference together.  I wrote a post about how, at that conference, people kept calling us “ladies” when we were together.  We had a pretty long conversation about it, but I never did confess all of the things Christie has encouraged me to do.

The other person was a younger woman whom I had never met.  As I walked in, I smiled at them both.  The younger woman was reaching for a coffee cup on one of the higher shelves.

“I feel like I’m going to die,” she said.

I looked at Lauren, who shrugged and remarked to me “it’s the first day of Sterling’s period.”

I blushed a little bit; I wasn’t offended, just surprised that she so casually mentioned what some might think is personal.  I looked back at Sterling, who made a face that seemed to say she had worse things to worry about, and said to me “I feel like my uterus is going to fall out.”  I tried to look sympathetic.

Lauren asked her if she had taken anything for the discomfort, and Sterling replied that she hadn’t, adding that she had left it on the table at home.  “Nothing is going really well today,” she said.   Lauren suggested getting some ibuprofen, or running to the drugstore a few blocks away.

I chimed in that I had some in my desk, and told Sterling that I’d be right back.  In a few minutes, I returned, handed the bottle to her and said “just don’t tell HR.”  (It was against company policy to share even over-the-counter medications.)  She took some and washed it down with some bottled water.  We sat down together at a table.

I’m not sure what the conversation was about in the short time I was gone, but when I returned, they were talking about puberty.  They discussed how old they each were when they got their first period, about girls they knew who developed breasts at what they considered really early ages (Sterling said she went to school with a girl who developed pretty big ones at eight!), and when they started to get hair on their arms and legs, when their mothers allowed them to shave their legs, and things like that.

I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, when Lauren looked at me and said “it must so be different for boys.”  I agreed that it was, but boys had to deal with things like voices changing, hair growing on bodies, and body parts growing.  “So?” she asked.  “When was it for you?”  I told her I was around eleven years old, about the time I was in the fourth or fifth grade.

We all finished our coffee at the same time.  Sterling got up first and headed back to work.  “Thank you,” she said to me.  “Better already.  A little, anyway.”

I stood up to leave, and Lauren got up with me.  “That was really nice of you.  Sterling is a sweet girl.   I hope you didn’t mind being one of the girls, for a while.”  She smiled.   I wanted to tell her that I was kind of flattered that they seemed comfortable talking with me there, but I couldn’t find the right words.  Then again,  maybe she had drawn some conclusions from our trip to Denver.  I was about to say goodbye when Lauren reached her arms around me and gave me a hug.

My heart stopped for a second.  That morning, like every day, Christie texted me first thing, and told me to “wear lacy black.”  According to her Rule Number 2, I was always to wear the same color and style of panties and bra that she was wearing that day.  “Wear lacy black” meant we would be wearing black lace thongs and bras.  I didn’t think the bra was visible under my shirt and the women’s tank top I had on under my clothes, but there was no denying that Lauren had just found it when she gave me a hug.

She leaned back and looked at me.  Her hands stayed on my back, slowly moving back and forth across the bra.  She leaned close to me and almost whispered “Let’s go grab a drink after work and talk.  We can pick up where we left off in Denver.”

My New Romper

I apologize that this is so short.  I really just wanted to put the picture up, and tell a quick story about the day Christie gave it to me.

After the baby shower a few months ago, Christie gave me the romper she wore to the party.  She even took me shoe shopping, and we bought a pair of strappy high heeled sandals to wear with it.  Christie and I are almost the same size, so it fit nicely.  It felt kind of revealing at first, since the loose fit of the bottoms made me feel like my butt was pretty exposed.

Romper2After I tried it on, Christie wanted to go out, so we got into her car and headed for our neighborhood place.  It was early afternoon, and we had the place to ourselves.   Jasmine, our favorite bartender, was there, and she came out from behind the bar to greet us with hugs.  We sat down, and Jasmine brought us two glasses of wine.

“I love your romper, Gee.  It’s really cute.”  I thanked her for the compliment, and Christie told her that she had given it to me as a present.  “A present,” Jasmine asked, “For your birthday?”

“No,” I replied, ” it was because I did a good job helping Christie out with a party she had.  Christie chimed in and told Jasmine about the baby shower, and how I had helped with the catering and serving.  She told her that I even looked like a caterer, with my black skirt, black pantyhose, white blouse and apron.

“Well, you look so cute!” said Jasmine. “The only thing I don’t like about rompers is going to the bathroom.  You have to pretty much get naked, right?”

I hadn’t actually thought about that, but it’s true.  Just to use the bathroom, I would have to untie the top, unzip the bottoms, and drop everything to below my knees.

We stayed for a few more glasses of wine, chatting with Jasmine and the waitress who was working with her.  Inevitably, I did have to use the restroom.  When I returned, Jasmine was smiling.  “Wasn’t I right?  Didn’t you just feel exposed?”  she laughed.

Baby Shower

This past weekend, Christie let me know in no uncertain terms that she was not happy.  I have been neglecting my blog.  I have started a few stories, but never got around to finishing them.   She told me that it was time was to focus on completing at least one, and post it.  So I am sitting here, doing just that.  So right now I am wearing nothing but a red lace bra and panties, black pumps, tied to a chair at the ankles and waist, in front of my laptop until I finish.

Last month, Christie asked me if I would help her with a party, cleaning her apartment, getting the food and drinks ready, and setting up the place.  I agreed, and a few days later, on Saturday morning, Christie picked me up.  She had texted me, as she always does, and informed me to “wear white.”  According to her rules, we always wear matching underwear, and today we would wear our white padded bras and white panties.  It has been super hot here in southern California lately, so I chose a pair of denim shorts and a white tee to work in.

We jumped in Christie’s car and headed off to the store.  On the way, Christie explained that this was a baby shower, and about twenty women would attend.  For the next few hours, Christie and I picked up things for appetizers, decorations and drinks.  We returned to her apartment, and I went to work in the kitchen.  I’m a fairly good cook, and Christie asked me to prepare a nice range of appetizers and snacks for the party.  When I finished, I helped her arrange her apartment and decorate.  By late afternoon, we were able to step back and admire our work.

As we shared a glass of wine, Christie looked at me and asked, “So, what are you wearing?”  That surprised me – I wasn’t planning on being at the party.  “Come on, Gee, you know I can’t do this myself.  I’m terrible at this, and you’re really good.”  I complained that I really had no desire to be at a baby shower.  Christie laughed.  “You think I do?”  She explained that she offered to host the party for a friend.  “Besides,” she added, “none of the women coming have babies.  Maybe one.  It will be fun.”  She explained that she wanted me to manage the drinks and food while she greeted and entertained.  Reluctantly, I agreed.   I asked if she was going to drive me home to change, and to my surprise (or maybe not), she said that she had everything I would need.

Christie led me back to her bedroom, where she pointed out my “uniform” for the evening.  “I want you to look like a proper caterer,” she said.  She had laid out a black skirt, white short-sleeved blouse, and short black apron, along with a pair of black flats and sheer black pantyhose.  I stared at her in disbelief.  “What?” she asked.  “You won’t know anybody here.  I won’t even know most of them.  If we do this right, nobody will even pay attention to you.”  She kissed me and said “let’s get ready.”

After showering and changing, Christie helped me with my makeup and hair, and touched up my nails with bright red polish.  I tied the apron, which was just shorter than my skirt, around my waist.  Christie dressed in a black floral-patterned romper and sandals.  She looked fantastic.  She caught me staring, grinned, and said “if you’re good, maybe I’ll give this to you.”

I had just finished setting out the first trays of food when the doorbell rang.  Christie went to the door and greeted her guests.  I put two glasses of champagne on a tray and stood by.  I didn’t recognize either of the two women who came in, but Christie greeted them and called me over with the drinks.  I served the two women, who thanked me but seemed to not quite notice me.  “Gee,” said Christie, “be a sweetie and put these somewhere.”   She nodded toward the gift bags the two had brought.  I set down my tray and took the bags to a corner.

The afternoon continued much like that.  The guest of honor arrived, along with more friends of hers, until there were about twenty guests in Christie’s apartment.  I served drinks, kept the food trays replenished, and carried dishes to the kitchen.  I was beginning to feel pretty comfortable, when I recognized Christie’s friend, Allison.  She saw me and came over.  “Gee!” she said, “it’s good to see you again.  This is Susan, my brother’s wife.” Allison hugged me, and I smiled at Susan.  Allison, you might remember, was the friend of Christie’s who organized her brother’s bachelor party at the casino – the party at which I went down on her brother.  I handed Allison and Susan drinks.  As they moved off, Allison stopped.  “Don’t worry,” she whispered.  “She doesn’t know you gave her husband a blow job.  He’d never say anything about that.”  She kissed me on the cheek and mingled with the other guests.

As the party continued, I kept circulating with drinks and freshening up the food, until the gifts were presented to the mother-to-be and things started to wind down.  I could tell that I was getting a few stares and more than a few giggles, but nobody had said anything.  I had no idea what story Christie was spinning, but most of the guests seemed more concerned with the guest of honor and the gifts.  I found myself in the kitchen when one of the guests came up to me and introduced herself.

“Hi, I’m Genevieve.  Call me Jenn.” She helped herself to a glass of wine off of my tray on the counter.  She wasn’t drunk, but had definitely had a few drinks.  She stared at me for a minute or two, and without my saying a thing, added “I discovered something about myself recently.  I’m kind of into the submissive thing.”  She went on to tell me that she had just bought a leather collar.  “I went to suck my boyfriend’s cock,” she went on,” and he would let me get close and then jerk my head back and say ‘not until I tell you!’ and it really turned me on.”  I was speechless.  She kept talking, and I realized I was getting turned on just listening to her.  I tuned out for a minute when someone asked me for a glass of wine, only to hear “and I really love how it feels when his balls are hitting my ass when he does me in the butt” when I started listening again.  Jenn stopped and stared at me for a minute.  She put her arms around me, grabbing my butt with both hands.  “Next time I see you, I’m going to fucking eat you up,” she said.  She kissed me on the mouth.  Suddenly, another woman, her friend, I guess, took her arm and led her away.

As the party was breaking up, I moved around picking up glassware and dishes.  By the time the last guests were leaving, I was pretty much done cleaning up.  Allison came into kitchen and smiled at me.  “Thanks, Gee.  You did a great job.”  She left with Susan, her sister-in-law.  Christie led the last of the guests to the door and said goodbye, and we were finally alone.  She came into the kitchen, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

Christie adds:

Do you think Gee did a good job with this post?  I think so.  I guess I’ll untie her.  I think I might reward her and try some of the things her new friend Genevieve talked about!

Running an Errand for Christie

20170602_130958I had today off work, so Christie informed me that she wanted me to run some errands for her.  She dropped by mid-morning, and picked out what she wanted me to wear.  Of course, according to her rules, she chose panties and a bra that matched what she was wearing – a lacy black push-up bra and a black thong.  She had me put on a gray top with cut-out shoulders and a low neckline.  With my breast enhancers and some help from Christie, it showed just a bit of cleavage.  She had me put on some sheer pantyhose, and a pair of lacy black shorts.  She chose a pair of black pumps for me.

After doing my nails, hair and makeup, we picked out some hoop earrings and a silver anklet to wear.  Christie pronounced me ready.  She handed me a piece of paper that was folded into thirds, sealed with a stick-on heart, and marked “Thanks!”  She told me to take it a local adult store called “Touch of Romance.”  I had been there a long time ago, when Christie had me do some similar shopping errands.

I was to go to the store, give the letter to a salesperson, and have her help me pick up the things Christie wanted, which were noted in the letter.

It was a bright, sunny day, and I must admit it was hard to drive and not stare at my legs.  I drove to the store, and parked.  There were only two other cars in the lot, so I knew I would be almost alone in the store.  I walked in and two women greeted me from behind the counter.  Both were helping other guests, so I walked over to a display of scented oils.

One of the women finished with her customer and came over, and asked if there was anything she could help me with.  I said yes, adding that my friend Christie asked me to drop off a thank-you note.  “I can take that,” she said, and dropped it into her apron pocket.  I told her that I thought the letter included the things my friend wanted me to pick up.  “Oh,” she said, “let me read it right now.”  She quickly read the letter, put it back in her pocket, and said, “Ok, Gina, let’s go look at some toys.”  She led me over to the display of dongs and dildos and other toys.  “So, Christie wants you to pick up a realistic looking dildo.”  She explained how dildos have testicles and a base, whereas a dong does not.  I was a little confused and embarrassed, because I’d already bought o dildo for Christie once before.

The saleswoman took one off the shelf and opened it up.  “This one is not only realistic looking, but it’s made to feel realistic, too.” She handed it to me.  It felt surprisingly heavy.  “It’s not cheap, but it really is the best in terms of feel.  The one you’re holding is six-inch, but in comes in eight, too.  The eight inch is bigger in girth, too, but the six-inch is pretty big.  What do you think?”

The saleswoman was very nice.  She explained that in her letter, Christie explained that she wanted something a bit larger than the one she currently had.  I must have looked nervous.  She asked me if I wanted to read the letter.  “It doesn’t say you can’t,” she added.  I glanced at the letter.  It explained how Christie had made me her girlfriend, that I only wore women’s clothes now, and that she wanted to buy a larger dildo to train me in oral and anal sex.

I chose the six-inch.

“Ok, so your friend says you’ll need some anal lube, too.”  She led me over to another shelf, and described a couple of different types.  “This one contains more of an ingredient to help you anal muscled relax, so it might be better for you.”  We picked the lube, as well as toy cleaner.  “She wants you to pick up some condoms, too.  They’re actually on sale.”  She explained the details, and asked me if I had a style that I liked.  I said I didn’t.  “We’ll just try a variety, then.  I’ll give you some of my favorites.”

She led me back to the register, where she rang up my purchase.  The other saleswoman smiled at me.

I got home to find Christie waiting for me.  We opened the box with the dildo.  “You’re going to love this,” she giggled.  Within minutes we were in the bedroom, wearing only our bras and panties.  Christie had the dildo between her legs.  “Come her,” she commanded.

Catching Up, and Caught

I confess that I’ve been totally neglecting this blog.  I don’t mean to; it’s a combination of being busy, doing something I want to write about but just not getting to it, and feeling like I keep writing about the same thing.  Just excuses, I know.  Christie encouraged me to start blogging for a couple of reasons.  First (this seems kind of “deep” for me), it makes me put into writing some of fun things we’ve done, and forces me to think about what I’ve learned and how I felt doing them.  Second, she liked that it was a public acknowledgement of what I’ve done as I’ve become her “girlfriend.”  At this point, only a few of our friends know that I wear panties and bras, shave and wax, and have a growing wardrobe of women’s’ clothes, so this a kind of “coming out.”

So it’s time to do some catching up.

Christie had been out of town again, and flew back on Friday.  She texted me later that day that she wanted to pick me up and go for drinks.  “Wear white,” her text read.  According to her Rule Number 2, that meant we would both wear matching white bra and panties.

I had planned on seeing her when she got back, so I made sure I had gotten my brows waxed and hair colored during the week.  I managed to leave work a little early, so I had plenty of time to get home and get ready.  I showered. shaved my legs, and the rest of my body and did my hair, and makeup.  I put on the lacy white panties and bra, and thought about what to wear.  I settled on a white blouse – you could just see the bra through it, but not too much unless I leaned down and the fabric stretched tight.  I chose some stretchy black pants, black heels, and put on some black fishnet knee-hi socks.

Christie came by to pick me up as planned.  She gave me a hug, complemented me on my outfit, and touched up my hair a little.  I picked up my purse and we headed to her car.  We’ve gone out quite a few times together, and we have a couple of “favorite” places.  They tend to be restaurants or hotels with large bars or lounges.  Some of the staff have gotten to know us, but I don’t worry about any of the guests recognizing me.  As we drove, however, I realized we were going to a place a lot closer – in fact, it was the neighborhood restaurant where Christie first gave me her panties to wear.  We hadn’t been there recently, but I was afraid I’d be recognized.  I knew better than to protest, but I was uncomfortable.  Christie noticed, patted my knee, and assured me it would be fine.

After we parked, we walked into the bar area.  It was quiet – just one guest at the end of the bar.  There was nobody behind the bar, so to my relief, we walked to the far end without incident.  My heart was pounding as we took our seats at the end of the bar.  A few minutes later, our bartender appeared.  It wasn’t anyone I recognized, and I began to relax a little more.

“Hi, ladies,” she greeted.  “What can I get started for you two?”  Christie ordered a glass of wine.  I quietly said “I’ll have the same, please.”

The bartender quickly brought our drinks, and Christie told me about her recent travels.  The bar and restaurant gradually started to fill up.  The area nearest to us was full of people I didn’t know, so I felt pretty good about my chances.  Christie noticed my glances around the bar and told me to stop worrying.

We ordered a second round and continued talking when a voice from behind us interrupted.  “Christie, is that you?  You haven’t been here in a while.”  It was Amanda, a woman who lived nearby and who we used to see often enough.  I wouldn’t say we were good friends, but we knew each other.  Christie hugged Amanda, who turned to me and extended her hand to introduce herself.  Christie stepped in and said “This is my friend, Gina.”  I shook Amanda’s hand.  She took the seat next to Christie, and my heart started pounding again.

Christie and Amanda chatted for a while, when Amanda leaned over and looked at me for a few moments.  “You look really familiar.  Do you have a brother?”  she asked.

“No,” I replied, then remembered Rule Number 1 (speak in complete sentences; no yes-or-no answers) and added “I don’t have a brother.”

“Sorry,” said Amanda, “you just look really familiar.”  Christie started to giggle, which made me blush, and caused Amanda to ask “OK, what’s going on?”

“You know who that is,” said Christie.  Then she whispered into Amanda’s ear.  I don’t read lips, but I could tell she said ‘Gee,’ which is what almost everyone calls me.  Amanda’s eyes popped wide open and she stared at me.  Before she could say anything, Christie started telling her the story about how she got me to wear her panties on a dare, which turned into my becoming her girlfriend.

After a few moments of what looked like stunned silence, Amanda said “Wow.  You look like I imagine your sister would look.  I mean, you look really good.”

I manged a “thanks very much.”  At Christie’s prodding, she started to ask me questions about wearing lingerie and makeup, and going out with Christie as her girlfriend.  Eventually the talk turned to sex.  I hesitated, and Christie jumped in, telling Amanda that she had me buy a dong and used it to teach me to give oral sex, and as a strap-on on me.

Amanda asked me how I felt about sex with guys.  I told her that I wasn’t gay, and really preferred being with women, but that I had gone down on two guys, and had sex with one.  She laughed, and said to Christie “All that training, and only two guys!  Seems such a waste!.”  They both giggled.  I shrugged, as if to say “oh, well.”

“I hate giving blowjobs,” Amanda added.  “The problem is that my husband really likes it.  I have to be in the right mood, though, at least.  He’ll want one tonight, after he has a few drinks in him.  He’s here, somewhere.”  Christie laughed at that.  The three of us ordered another round of  drinks from the bartender.

Christie and Amanda talked some more, leaving me to my drink and occasional chat with the bartender.  Then I noticed that Christie and Amanda looking at me.  Amanda excused herself, and Christie rubbed her hand on my back.  Something was up.  After a minute or two, Amanda came back and stood behind me.  She put one arm around my waist and pulled me close to her.  I couldn’t believe what I heard when she told me she wanted me to go down on her husband.  Christie looked at me and said “go on,” smiling and telling me she’d make it worthwhile.  Amanda was insistent, laughing and telling me how much she didn’t want to do it, but once he was satisfied, he’d just fall asleep.

“Come with me,” she whispered.  She took my arm and led me toward the door.  She took me out to her car and opened the back door.  In the back seat was her husband.  She pushed me in, and got in next to me.  Her husband looked at me and grinned, rubbing himself.  Amanda kissed the back of my neck, and guided my hand to his crotch.

I admit that the idea was kind of exciting.  I unzipped him, and went down on him.  He was big.  Much bigger than me.  Amanda kept caressing me.  Suddenly, and kind of quickly, her husband came.  I looked at her, and she put her arm around my shoulder, opened the door, and led me out of the car.

It seemed like forever, but the whole ordeal probably took five minutes.  We went back to the bar, and found Christie.  Our drinks had coasters covering them.  I took a drink.  Christie looked at me and said “Let’s go to the ladies room.  We need to fix our lipstick.”  I went with her.  When we got back, Amanda was gone.  Our bartender checked in with us.  “Another round ladies?”  she asked.  Christie said yes, and smiled at me.