Annabelle Holland
Chapter 1: At Nicole's
Mike leaned back in his chair and gazed out of his study window. "It's a glorious day", he thought to himself, "perfect for the end of May, the bright green fresh leaves on the trees sprinkled with the last of the spring blossom, all silhouetted against a clear blue sky. And, I reckon, I deserve a break, after all that work. Perhaps I'll go into town and do some shopping." A small part of his mind pointed out to him that there was still more work to be done, but the fight was an uneven one, and soon over.
Of course, he had to change. He went into his bedroom and changed. But even in these clothes he hated not looking respectable even in the warmest of weather, so he found a pale blue short-sleeved cotton shirt and a pair of dark blue linen trousers. He made sure he had his cheque book as well as cash, so that he could spend as much as he liked - well, maybe not that much, but at least as much as he could afford, and also took his wedding ring from the bedside cabinet and put it on his finger.
The weather was just right for a stroll into town, Mike decided, and if he made a slight detour he could walk through the Memorial Park, the one free space in the town that the council looked after properly. The magnolia blossom was almost over, but the rhododendrons would be coming out, and the park was always at its best at this time of year. By the time he had walked through the park, half day-dreaming about what he might buy, half taking in the scents and the smells of the new flowers, he could sense the familiar feeling which always came when he went shopping, and his tummy muscles began to tense.
He entered the shopping area at the end opposite his final goal, and yet more time was spent window-shopping. At last, however, he was almost at the doors of Marks and Spencers. Could he go in? The question had been rising into his consciousness for too long now, with that slow walk through the park and all that window-shopping. It was safe just before Christmas, he told himself, and it was fine in February too, for obvious reasons. But at the end of May? No, he couldn't summon up the courage to push those familiar doors open. Instead, he walked on to the next-door Smiths and bought a copy of the Telegraph. He would go to "Nicole's", a secluded little wine bar in a courtyard behind the High Street, have a glass of dry white wine, and see if he could finish the crossword over just one glass. No other shopping today, he would make do with what he had at home.
Jan was feeling really pleased with herself. Despite everything, the trip down to London had been a major success. The worst bit, as always, had been coping with Angus Macdonald. Not only was there that fake Scottishness which grated after a couple of minutes, there were also those none-too-subtle attempts to get her into his bed, or, rather, himself into her bed. It started from the very first moments, for he would always, as if he were a gentleman, take her coat off for her, clearly no more than an excuse to brush her breasts "accidentally". Jan liked her breasts, too much, indeed, to allow that bit of Aberdeen Angus to touch them. And then at the end of their meetings, he would always offer to take her back to her hotel, "so that she wouldn't get hassled by the taxi driver". Then he would want to protect her from the non-existent lift boy, no doubt. But she put up with the first, and she knew that Angus could always find some silly little thing who thought that Angus screwing her would get her on the front cover of "Marie-Claire". No doubt Angus wouldn't have objected to screwing her, but it was really force of habit on his part, which could easily be turned down.
Yet she needed Angus. He was the best fashion agent she knew, and he could get clothes that no-one else could, and often with plenty of room for profit. This time round his real coup had been some lingerie from the Italian designer Schiappano. He always made such beautiful things, fashioned out of silk and satin and lace in ways that others had never thought of. But the surprise this time had been that the bras and panties were edged with delicately thin strips of the softest leather. She knew at once that they would be a big hit with her customers, for there were lots of rather rich clients who underneath their ever-so-proper exteriors would not object to the little hint of S&M which the leather edging created. And others, the customers she really liked, would marvel at the softness and elegance of the design and manufacture. And Angus, bless his undoubtedly over-tight briefs, had not only been able to get her an exclusive order, but he'd done so at a price which made a very respectable profit unavoidable, indeed a handsome one.
Jan looked out of the shop and then looked back at Liz, who helped run the business. That was a bit of an understatement, in fact, for she'd been very lucky. Taking Liz on had been a bit of a stab in the dark, but without her the shop might never have been the success it was. She could manage the place whenever Jan was away without any problems, and she was brilliant with those customers whom Jan hated, the ones with pots of money but no sense of fashion to go with it, who only came there because they knew it was the place to go. The only problem with Liz was that she was obsessed with sex. It wasn't so much the stories about her and her husband Alan, which, truth be told, had, in all their variety, a hypnotic fascination. That wasn't it, it was that Liz was determined that she should find a man for her. The hints, the suggestions, the pointings-out could get on your nerves, thought Jan.
Still, the important thing was that Liz could run the shop (loved to, in fact) and Jan was tired after the trip to London. So why not? Jan turned to Liz, "Would you mind awfully if I left you by yourself for the rest of the afternoon? I'm a bit exhausted, and I wouldn't mind sneaking off." "Of course, dear, off you go. And don't come back 'til tomorrow. I'll lock up. Go and get yourself a drink somewhere, you never know who you might meet!"
The drink at least was a good idea, and as Jan walked down the High Street, she turned into the courtyard where "Nicole's" was to be found. She went into the bar and ordered a glass of Sancerre and came back out. There was one table in the shade of the trees that was free. As she was about to make her way to the table a man passed by on his way in, but she paid no attention to him as he walked past, a copy of the "Daily Telegraph" in his hand. Mike ordered a glass of the very same wine, and made his way to the free table in the shade which he had spotted on his way in. He had already started the crossword in his mind, and had just worked out that 1 across "Choose candlelight for the Dickensian" had to be "Pickwick" when he reached the table and sat down, oblivious to the world.
"Shit!" exclaimed Jan silently. She felt trapped. This guy was obviously going to try and pick her up. But what happened next surprised her. Mike looked up from the crossword, and as he spotted her he turned red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he half-stammered. "I didn't see you sitting there. Look, I'll move." They both looked round for an empty table, but the sunny weather had given too many people the same idea, and there wasn't a single table left left. Jan felt attracted by his embarrassment, and said, "Don't bother, there isn't anywhere free, anyway." "Are you sure?" "Sure", and Jan put on her sunglasses to hide her eyes, and picked up her copy of "Vogue" to hide the rest of her face. She started to read, in the hope that this would shut him up. She soon realised she need hardly have worried. After a few minutes she raised her eyes over the parapet of the magazine and saw that the man was hopelessly engrossed in his crossword. She looked again, he was filling in clues so quickly, it was amazing. Intelligent maybe. But although he was quite smartly dressed, and, she had to admit, good-looking with sun-tanned skin, hazel eyes and long light brown hair, thickly growing so that it might almost have been given a pony tail, a nice nose too, but he could have dressed better, for the colours were all wrong. Green - or brown, maybe - would have suited him much better.
Mike finished the crossword in less than fifteen minutes, with the wine only two-thirds drunk. He was pleased himself for that small success after the earlier failure. He glanced at the woman sitting opposite. Long, straight fair hair, elegantly dressed, and he could detect a hint of expensive perfume. But she didn't want him there, he could tell. He could understand that. He'd better go, even if he would have stayed longer if he had been by himself at the table. Quickly he finished his wine, and then he got up, saying to Jan, "I'm sorry I disturbed you, but the table's free for you now. Goodbye." Jan gave him a quick smile to show he was forgiven, and watched him leave. He really was rather good-looking. Slim, medium height, only about an inch taller than her own five foot seven, and, she couldn't help noticing, a nice bum. But married, too, she thought, for the wedding ring had not escaped her attention.
Chapter 2: The Accident
It was a Saturday morning three weeks later. There was just time for Jan to squeeze in her weekly shopping at Tesco's before opening up the shop. She put some tins of Whiskas in the basket for Angelica, and as she turned round, at the far end of the aisle she could see that man who'd sat down beside her at Nicole's. She could tell that he had spotted her too, but before she could even smile in surprise, he'd disappeared. "No doubt", she thought to herself, "he's out shopping with his wife, and he's terrified in case I embarrass him. I wonder what she looks like?"
She started searching for him with his wife, it was like a children's game of hide-and-seek, looking around at all the couples. And then she spotted him, just leaving the shop. But there was no-one with him. She walked quickly to the window to see if she could see his car. There he was, getting into an oldish Escort, and driving away. But there was no one with him. Quite a little mystery, she decided. "But I guess I'll never solve it."
The summer came. Mike always looked forward to the three weeks he had in Wales each year, in an isolated cottage that he rented from a former colleague at work. It was a long-standing arrangement, and the isolation meant he could live as he pleased. Jan, on the other hand, took no time off. Liz and Alan had gone to Crete this year, and on their return she had been regaled with tales of love-making on the beach, in the sea (that was really fun, apparently), amongst ruins, and by hillside streams. It seemed as if there was not an inch of Crete left which hadn't felt the impact of their couplings. "You should go, you know, there's a whole lot of talent out there. You could have some good fun." But Jan didn't think she was a Shirley Valentine, and all she really thought of was the dark stranger who had appeared from nowhere and now seemed to have disappeared.
One of the ways Mike kept his body in shape was by running. He liked to cover good distances, with the reward at the end of a cold shower and then putting on fresh clean clothes. Today was Sunday, there was work tomorrow, so an extra long run was called for. He'd be sitting at a desk the rest of the week. By the time he got within a mile of home he was already beginning to plan the evening ahead. The road here was straight and tree-lined, houses on either side, and cars parked on the road. He didn't pay any attention to a silver BMW about 50 yards away with its boot open.
As he passed the car a carton swung out of the boot and caught him in the ribs, sending him sprawling against the stone pillar of the gate, and the box fell down, clothes from the shop spilling onto the pavement. "Christ! You idiot, can't you look what you're doing!" "You must have seen me. Are you blind or something?" Then there was silence. Mike and Jan looked at each other. "Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted at you like that. And you're right! I was off in a dream." "No, it's my fault," said Jan, "and, look, you've really hurt your arm. You must come inside, and I'll clean it up for you." "It's not too bad, really. It can wait 'til I get home. But, look, those clothes of yours are going to get filthy. Let me help you put them back in the box." "OK," said Jan, "but only if you let me clean up that arm of yours."
Mike looked down at his arm, and saw it was indeed a bit of mess. "It's a deal, I guess." Jan noticed how carefully Mike helped repack the box, not like most men, who would stuff things in anyway, and was duly impressed. He carried the repacked box as she led him indoors and into the kitchen. "Just wait there. I'll pop upstairs to get some stuff to clean out those scratches."
Jan was back in a moment, giving Mike no chance to escape, although the thought had already flitted through his mind. As she started to bathe his harm and apply some TCP, she noticed three things about Mike. Firstly, he was thoroughly embarrassed, secondly, his arm was really smooth and hairless, soft to the touch, and thirdly, he wasn't wearing his wedding ring. She was dying to ask him about that, but she knew she couldn't.
Eventually the task was finished. "There you are, then, off you go! And watch out next time!" But Mike hesitated a moment, and then spoke very quietly and shyly. "Look, I've been a dreadful trouble to you. And rude too - remember that meeting at Nicole's, where I pinched your table. Can't I make it up to you somehow? Would you come to dinner with me?" "It's quite alright, really. There's no need to do anything like that." Jan wasn't just being polite. He really did seem nice, not like too many men, and she could really fancy him. But it just wasn't worth taking the chance. "Please, I'd like to. It wouldn't just be repaying you for all the trouble I've caused. It would be a pleasure. Nothing fancy, honest, somewhere like Roberto's, perhaps." This at least was reassuring, thought Jan. Roberto's was always packed with locals. He would never have suggested it if he had something to hide. Maybe the absence of the ring meant that he'd been divorced recently. Her mind whirled round, weighing up all the options. The safeness of Roberto's and the fear of what she would do if they met again and she had refused to go to dinner eventually persuaded her. "OK, then," she said. "I'd like that." Jan was so horrified at what she'd heard herself say, that she scarcely noticed that Mike was trembling all the while. But they eventually agreed that they would meet for dinner the following Saturday evening, and that Roberto's would be the place.
Chapter 3: A Steady Date
Jan spent most of the week thinking about her Saturday night date, and although she tried as hard as she could to hide it, she could tell that Liz was getting was suspicious. Somehow or other, however, she reckoned she'd managed to keep it secret, but that meant that there was no one she could talk to about what to wear. The problem was how to look as attractive as possible without going over the top and giving Mike (for now she at least knew his name) the wrong idea.
On the Saturday she soaked in a hot perfumed bath for ages, admiring her body with its curves, its small pert breasts below which a nice flat tummy led to her rounded hips and down to her long legs. At last she dried herself off with a nice warm fluffy towel, and then began to dress. She put on a pair of salmon pink panties decorated on the front panel with a red rose at whose centre sparkled a small amethyst. Then she fastened up the matching bra in whose soft satin cups her breasts nestled gently. Next a pair of black shiny Woolford tights (for if she was going to wear a short skirt to show off her legs, then she didn't want Mike to catch a glimpse of an inviting stocking top).
The next job was to paint her long, skilfully-manicured nails a delicate and restrained rose pink. Once they had dried it was time to apply her make-up, the mascara and eyeliner, the red-brown eyeshadow, some foundation and a hint of blusher, and also to brush back in shape her strawberry blonde hair which her hairdresser had toiled over that afternoon. She was careful with her perfume, for the delicious scent of Chanel could too easily be overdone.
Then it was time to put on the maroon mini-skirt which caressed her hips and the simple satin blouse which suggested rather than revealed the curves of her breasts. A gold chain around her neck, long dangling earrings inset with amethysts, a couple of bracelets and a ring on one finger of each hand. She was almost ready, and there was just a pair of low-heeled shiny leather shoes and her matching jacket to put on. It was eight o-clock and the door-bell was ringing.
Mike had taken rather less time to get ready. The choice of what to wear had been easier, even if, when he had asked Michelle the previous evening, he hadn't got much helpful advice. The truth was that the choice had been so easy because there wasn't much choice. His wardrobe might have been full, but there was very little that was suitable for going out to dinner with Jan. Eventually he had chosen had a dark brown checked sports jacket with tan trousers and and a dark cream shirt, the only brightness coming from a swirling mass of browns and greens on his tie. He was quite ashamed when he saw how sparkling and bright Jan looked when she opened the door.
The evening was a great success, far better than either had hoped. Jan was frustrated because Mike talked very little about himself, apart from the fact that he taught economics at the local college, which he clearly hated. He became much more lively when Jan mentioned that she owned a fashion shop in the High Street. Mike had immediately recognised it as "The New Woman", explaining, again with embarrassment, that he had noticed it on his regular food shopping trips to M&S. He'd wanted to know all about the business, and Jan had to be careful what she said, but she was pleased that someone was so genuinely interested in what she did.
They both realised that the other did not want to leave the restaurant, but at last they knew they would have to go or be thrown out. Jan was fearing this moment, not only for what Mike might want to do next, but because of the feelings that were stirring inside herself. She had to keep control. But when they reached her door, Mike merely pecked her gently on the cheek. "Thank you, Jan. That was a lovely evening, and I hope I've repaid you for all the trouble I've caused you." Jan could have kicked herself as she heard herself reply. "But, Mike, I really enjoyed it too. Can I take you out to dinner in return?" Half-heartedly, Mike tried to decline the invitation, but the argument was soon over.
Once Jan got inside she went straight to her bedroom, and took off her jacket, blouse and skirt. As she lay on the bed in just her bra and panties, Angelica came in purring, looking for her mistress. As they snuggled up together, Jan said, "Well, Angie, I seem to have got myself a steady date. Aren't I a silly?" When Mike got home, he took off his clothes and as he put them in the wardrobe he thought how silly he'd been, how impossible it all was, even though, he realised, Jan was the nicest woman that he had ever met.
Chapter 4: Liz Helps Out
The following three Saturday nights followed the same pattern, although the restaurant was each time different. The end of each evening however, was marked by no more than the by now familiar peck on the cheek. Mike told no one of his 'steady date', and that was easy enough, for he had no close friends amongst his colleagues at work, and outside work there was nothing but nodding acquaintances. Jan, however, had a harder time keeping the secret, for Liz's keen nose would have picked up the scent, no matter how well it had been disguised.
So it was no surprise when one quiet Wednesday morning Liz suddenly asked. "When am I going to see this fella of yours that you're hiding away? Don't try and deny it, you can't hide something like that!" Jan's schoolgirl blushes reminded her of Mike, and she blushed even more, which just encouraged Liz. "He must be a real hunk, the way you're blushing. Come on now, tell all!" So Jan had to give a few details, but they didn't amount to much, certainly not enough to satisfy Liz, who then said. "Look, I've got a brilliant idea. Next week, I'll have been at the shop four years. Don't you think that's worth some kind of celebration." Jan had to agree (she was indeed genuinely pleased that Liz had stayed so long, done so well, and been so happy). "So," continued Liz, pressing home her advantage ruthlessly, "Why don't you come to dinner a week on Saturday. I'll cook something special, and we can have a really nice time." Jan could see what was coming, but didn't know how to avoid it. "The only condition, of course, is that you come with Mike. Is that agreed?" The only question that remained, Jan realised, was how to persuade Mike himself to agree, for she certainly had no choice in the matter. How would he feel about this?
That Saturday evening Mike and Jan went to a restaurant in a small village about 15 miles away. Mike enjoyed the unaccustomed luxury of settling into the luxuriant passenger seat of Jan's BMW and being driven by someone who was clearly an expert driver and at ease with herself behind the wheel of such a powerful car. The restaurant, too, was by far the most splendid of the ones in which they had dined so far, with its soft lighting, excellent, but not over-attentive, staff, and, most of all, fine French cooking. It was obvious, he thought to himself, that this had been Jan's choice, for he could never have picked somewhere as good, and he wondered nervously to himself about where they might go the following week.
He realised that Jan was nervous too, and began to fear the worst. Was this going to be the gentlest of let downs? It looked very much like it. At last Jan uttered the feared-for words. "Mike, you know we've been meeting every Saturday for over a month now." "Yes, and it's been really nice," he interrupted, trying vainly, he felt, to reach a positive outcome." "That's how I feel, too," answered Jan. "But the thing is, you see, Liz, you know, at the shop, has got wind of this, and she's insisting that I take you to her house for dinner next Saturday. She's got it all planned out, a great excuse and everything. Would you mind terribly if we went?" She rushed on, "It's an awful imposition, but she's a great help in the shop, and she and Alan mean well, even if they've a funny way of showing it at times." Mike was too relieved to think of saying anything other than yes. And that evening, as she dropped Mike off at his house after the meal, Jan hugged him closely and their lips touched fleetingly, as gently as butterflies landing on a flower.
Chapter 5: Two of a Kind
Liz was getting more than a little excited about Saturday. Jan with a man! This was something she'd been waiting for for ages, and now she was to get the chance to see him. Probably it was too much to expect him to look like Sean Connery in an early Bond film, or, perhaps, George Clooney, but he must be fairly hunky, otherwise someone as fabulous as Jan would hardly have spared him the time. Alan and her had a good chat about the evening's plans, and they were pretty sure that things would turn out just as they wanted. If Liz wanted something, she pretty well always got it. Even so, as she heard the taxi draw up just after 7.30, she could feel a hint of dampness on her knickers as the moment when Mike would be revealed arrived.
And, alas, Mike was a bit of a disappointment, if truth were told. A quite slight figure, scarcely taller than Jan, he seemed rather shy and quiet. There were good points, though, for his skin was very smooth, his hair quite dark, and his hazel eyes were attractive. "Still," she thought to herself, "I can tell that he's not going to drag Jan off to the bedroom and rip her clothes off in a moment of frenzied love-making as he thrusts his manhood between her legs. But that just means there's a job to be done tonight! If Jan can't move things along herself, for some reason, I'm happy to help."
Jan had given Mike a pretty full run-down on Liz and Alan, and the dinner went remarkably well. True, enough, sometimes both of them felt as if they were being interrogated by the Gestapo, but on the other hand there were considerable quantities of rather good wine to be drunk, and Mike enjoyed hearing Jan and Liz talk about the shop and the oddities of some of their customers. "It's nice," thought Liz, "that Jan's found someone who's interested in her work. They're made for each other."
After the meal was finished, Liz dragged Jan off to the kitchen, allegedly to make coffee, but also "to let the boys have a chat together". Once in the kitchen, Liz got straight to the point. Once she found out that Jan and Mike weren't sleeping together, she offered some advice as to how Jan might get him into her bedroom and more than just that, too. There was, she pointed out, no harm in a woman making the first move, and anyway the poor dear probably wouldn't even notice what was happening until she actually unzipped his trousers. And by then he wouldn't need any persuading.
Meanwhile Alan was using a slightly different tack, enquiring as to whether Mike was "looking after Jan properly, know what I mean?" and generally making the assumption that Mike was asserting his male rights in the way that any man would. He found it all horribly embarrassing, all the more so because he knew that Alan was only saying the kinds of thing that most men would say in the same situation.
Eventually the evening drew to an end, and Alan called a taxi for Jan and Mike. As they got in the taxi, Jan said, "Phew! They're not exactly subtle, are they? It's quite exhausting." And unconsciously she leant her head on to Mike's shoulder. The taxi soon arrived at Jan's house, and Mike escorted her to the door. Whether it was down to Liz and Alan's encouragement, or to the quantity of wine they had drunk, they would never know, but as they kissed goodnight at the open door and their lips met for only the second time, their mouths opened of their own accord, their tongues met excitedly and they pulled their bodies close together. But suddenly Jan pulled back.
Mike could see tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I shouldn't have done that. Forgive me!" "No, it's not your fault," said Jan through the tears. "It's just that, oh, I don't what to say. You're so nice and sweet and good, it just doesn't seem fair to you." "Please, Jan, don't feel like that. Just let me comfort you, I promise you, that's the only thing I want to do. I hate to see you like this. And whatever it is, whatever the problem is, you're a much better person than me, much too good for me, I know that already. I don't want to see you hurt." Jan let her sobbing body be comforted by Mike, and she felt his surprising softness and gentleness a great help.
As she sobbed, she thought. "Oh, Mike," she stuttered, "I don't know what to do. All I know is that I have to let you go, but I can't let you go while I look this." She pointed to the mascara running down her cheeks, and her make-up dissolving in her tears. "Let me run upstairs and repair the damage. It'll give us both time to calm down, and maybe we can sort things out. You go and wait for me in there," and she pointed to the living room door.
Jan rushed upstairs, without waiting for an answer. She went into her bedroom and saw Angelica lying on her bed. She picked up the purring cat and said, "Oh, Angie, what I have I done? What should I do?" Slowly she calmed down, as the relaxation of the cat transferred to her. Then she went to the sink, washed her face and began to re-apply her make-up. Now she had to go downstairs again and find some way of letting Mike go as gently as she could, and without hurting him. Meanwhile Mike was pacing the living room in his own private turmoil, no nearer himself to working out how he could save the woman he realised he loved from her misery.
At last Jan returned. "Mike," she trembled, "I don't know how to say this, 'cos I like you so very much, and I care for you. But if you knew what I'm really like, it would hurt you too much, and I don't want to hurt you. Let's stop now, before it's too late." "No, Jan, no, you can't say that. Nothing would hurt me more than this. Anyway, I've been thinking. I know it's not us, I can feel that we should be together. So it's something in your past, my past too, isn't it? Tell me, please." "You're right, but I can't, I just can't." "You can, I'm sure, whatever it is. Let me tell you what I think, just to prove you can. You see, I've been trying to work things out. I think you've just come out of a torrid lesbian affair, something like that, and I'm your escape route. But I don't mind, I want to be your escape route!"
To Mike's amazement, Jan started to giggle. "Dear Mike, that's so good of you, but you've got it wrong. But maybe I should tell you, nevertheless. Only you've got to promise me two things. You won't interrupt me while I tell you, and that at the end you'll just go, you won't shout at me, you won't hit me, you won't beat me up. Please do that for me. I've met guys before that I've fallen for, but at the end they've said horrible things to me, they've done horrible things to me, please don't you do that, you, whom I like more than anyone else I've ever met." Mike was sure in his reply, and Jan worried in case he was too sure, but she started anyway.
"I giggled before, because in a funny sense you're right. When I was growing up I realised there was something which set me apart from my schoolfriends. I knew somehow that I was different. But I couldn't work it out. Eventually, however, I decided I was gay. As I got slightly older, I started going to gay bars and clubs, and it wasn't too difficult to find someone who would pick me up, and that always led to a bit of quick sex. Please don't think badly of me, I was searching for an answer, that's all, and that was the only one I could find. "But what was odd, and what puzzled me, was that I didn't get any real satisfaction out of all these activities, even when, as once happened, I lived with someone for a couple of months. This wasn't what I wanted, I realised. But I still didn't know what I wanted. Then someone who picked me up one evening suggested some role-playing. I was afraid that this was going to be dangerous and horrible, but I didn't have much option at the time, so I agreed. And it turned out that I enjoyed it, enjoyed it better than any other sex I had had. For I had discovered what my problem was.
"You see, in a sense it was my parents' fault - not that I blame them. They were loving and kind, and I was terribly upset when they died. But they'd made one awful mistake. You see, when I was born they'd christened me ..." Mike interrupted. "I know what they'd done, they'd christened you John, didn't they? They got your gender wrong, you're a transsexual." Jan gasped, "Yes, you're right! But how did you know? How do you know about transsexuals. And, please, please don't hit me!" "I won't hit you," said Mike, "I promise. In fact all I want to do is give you a great big kiss. I think you're beautiful and brave, I only wish I was as beautiful as you. You see, I've been just as worried as you, for I think my story's almost the same, but I've never dared to do much about it. That first time we met, in the wine bar, just shows how weak I am. I'd been going to go to M&S to buy some underwear for Michelle, that's the real me, not Mike, but I'd lost my courage at the last moment, and gone for a drink instead. That explains the wedding ring, so the shop assistant wouldn't guess, and that explains why I was so distracted. And when we met again, I thought that going out with you would cure me, for at last I'd found a woman who could make me a man. But I was wrong. You have cured me alright, but you've made me realise that I've found someone who can show me my future, show me how to be a woman."
They embraced together, and this time both were crying, but crying tears of joy. Eventually they pulled apart. "Jan," said Mike, "I'd really like you to meet Michelle, would you do that for me? Would you come round to my place next Saturday and meet her? I know she'd like that." "Oh, yes, oh yes! That would be wonderful. We're two of a kind, aren't we?"
Chapter 6 Together
On Friday evening, when Mike got home from work he opened the front door to find a pink envelope lying below the letter box. He picked it up and saw the inscription "To Michelle". He opened it quickly and saw the message, "Look round the back of your house, Love Jan". When he opened the door and round the back, he saw a large box wrapped in silver foil paper and tied with a large pink ribbon. There was a message card which read "For Michelle, tomorrow". He brought it in quickly and opened it as fast he could.
Removing layers of tissue paper, he came across a bra, pair of panties and a suspender belt, all of eau-de-nil coloured satin fringed with the thinnest imaginable strips of soft dark green leather. Removing more tissues he found a skirt and top of shades of deep green and turquoise, patterned in scattered rectangles like a Persian rug, the waistcoat-like top revealing a silken bodice of emerald green. Further down the package still, were some black stockings, a small box of make-up and a pair of rich gleaming leather stilettos. It was all so beautiful and soft to the touch, and he knew Michelle was desperate to wear them. But she would have to wait until tomorrow.
Saturday came, and Mike spent all morning shopping and starting to get the house clean and pretty. He was glad to stop for lunch, for it was hard work. By about four o'clock, however, he had done everything he could, and he started to prepare the food. After that he shaved his whole body thoroughly so that his skin was as smooth as could be. Then it was time for a long hot bath, the bath salts bubbling the foam around him and filling the air with a delicious perfume. He washed and conditioned his hair. He dried himself with a large soft towel.
Tying the towel around his waist he walked back to his bedroom. Looking down at himself he was pleased at the one small brave step he had taken, for he could see the tiny breasts of a young girl which were the result of hormone pills which he'd got. Until now he had been terrified that Jan would spot them, but now it was so very different.
Back in the bedroom he took the hair dryer which he had bought himself and dried and brushed his hair so that it shaped down in a gentle curve below his ears. It wasn't perfect, but it did have some body and a good dose of hair spray would hold it in place. Maybe Jan could show him how to do it better.
Then it was time to start dressing. He had discovered that Jan had sent Michelle two pairs of panties, one the tiniest of briefs and then a pair of delightful heavy satin French knickers embroidered with lace and edged with the same leather trim. He had worked out what she intended and he pulled on the little briefs. He stepped into them, and then pushed his penis down between his legs and pulled the back of the panties up, pushing his penis back at the same time so that they held it firmly in place hidden between his legs. He looked down and saw with delight the pure satin of the briefs descending in a tiny smooth pattern between his legs with no trace of an unwanted bulge.
Then he took the bra and brought his tiny little breasts into the delicious satin cups with their frilled lace tops. They were happy there, he could tell, but even though the cups were tiny he still needed to take some cotton to push the breasts up and forward. He was surprised and pleased to note a tiny cleavage. Fastening the suspender belt around his waist he then took the heavy satin of the French knickers and felt their smoothness as he pulled them up his legs and they enclosed his hips in a comforting and smooth embrace. The stockings slid up his legs and he attached them to the suspender straps.
Now it was time to put on the make-up which Jan had given him. It was never easy this, and his nervous trembling hands were of no help. But there was lots to put on, foundation and face powder, a touch of blusher on the cheeks, eyeliner and eyeshadow, mascara too. Then there was nail varnish of dark crimson to put on his nails which he always kept as long as he dared and which he had manicured himself. Finally there was matching lipstick, which he always found easier, although this evening he kept smudging and had to start again. A spray of perfume bought "as a present for my wife" and at last it was all done, and as he pressed his lips together he looked in the mirror and saw Michelle looking back. She was here, she was home at last.
She took the pleated skirt and zipped it up at the back as its pleats fell straight down to a couple of inches above her knees. Then she put on the top and noticed how it moulded into her body with the satin bodice falling gently over the tiny curves of her breasts. Mike had bought some jewellery and Michelle put a twisted gold chain around her neck, a patterned gold bracelet on her wrist and a pair of clip-on (and not really very elegant) earrings under the curves of her hair. Everything that Jan had bought for her fitted perfectly and she could tell that Jan didn't run a fashion shop for nothing, but she still worried about the stilettos. But there was no need, for they too were the perfect fit, even if she tottered slightly as she walked.
The biggest panic at the end was whether she would be ready in time, but Michelle had fifteen minutes to check the food and plump out the cushions before the door bell rang. "Gosh, you look beautiful," said Jan, as she slipped off her coat to reveal a simple black dress with bare arms and tiny shoulder straps which clung to her body emphasising its curves all the way from the mounds of her proud breasts to several inches short of her knees.
The evening flew by. They scarcely noticed the food (which Michelle thought was probably just as well), as they talked incessantly. Michelle showed Jan her wardrobe with the various clothes that Mike had bought for her over the years, and they swapped experiences of the ways in which they had managed to buy things whilst dressed as men. Eventually they settled on the sofa and raised a toast to Jan and Michelle. Then they embraced together in full passion. The sensation as Jan's hand moved under Michelle's top and came to her bra was almost too much for Michelle. She could feel her little nipples became hard. They began to strip one another slowly and soon bra touched bra, the satins of their panties merged together and the smoothness of their stockings slid past each other.
Slowly they moved to the bedroom. Michelle lay flat on the bed on her back and Jan moved above her. Together they removed each other's clothes so that only Michelle was left with her tiny panties which were now beginning to bulge strongly. She felt Jan's tongue on her hard little nipples as she herself caressed Jan's. Finally Jan took off Michelle's little briefs and lowered herself slowly on to the now erect penis. They moved gently together and with moans of pleasure they achieved their fulfilment.
Three or four more times that night they made love, and then they slept long into the next morning. As they awoke the sun was shining across the crumpled satin sheets of the bed, as they sighed and laid together. For they knew that they had entered a new world, a truly feminine world which was fed by love and from which the harsh brutalities of men were excluded. Jan and Michelle were as one, and their futures lay along that same shining path along which Jan had already travelled so far and whose signposts Michelle could now so clearly see.
THE END
© 2000, Annabelle Claudia Holland
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