Substitute Teacher 2: Showing My Frillies

[Alana]

The thing you need to know about me is that I'm a man who loves literature. When I'm reading a classic novel, the whole world goes away, and I can't concentrate on anything but the book I'm reading. Which is why it's not a good idea for me to be wearing a dress when I'm reading a classic novel. You have to be careful when wearing a dress.

Maybe you're wondering why a man is talking about wearing dresses. If you are, you haven't read my previous account of my adventures in dresses, posing as a woman in order to work as a substitute teacher.

Originally I was a reluctant crossdresser. But since that time, I haven't been able to get thoughts of dresses and pantyhose and high heels out of my mind. I see my wife in a new dress and I think how pretty it is and how wonderful it would be to wear it. But I've stayed away from my wife's wardrobe because I knew she wouldn't like me trying on her dresses. Not unless I had some excuse.

My wife and I are both substitute teachers. We're trying to get permanent jobs, but teaching jobs are hard to come by these days. Money is tight, and we're not in any position to turn away work. So when a call came in to sub for a sixth-grade teacher for two weeks, it was with regret I had to tell the caller that my wife was already subbing at another school.

"But I'm available," I said.

"No, I'm sorry, this is a girl's school. We only hire female teachers," she said.

So, of course, an idea popped into my head, and I said, "Oh, she's just coming in the door right now. Let me put her on."

I covered the mouthpiece and practiced my female voice. Then I returned to the phone.

"Hello. This is Annie Williams," I said.

"Hello. This is the Vice-Principal at Sapperstein Girl's Academy. I was just telling your husband, we had you in mind for some substitute teaching next week. But he said you were working somewhere else."

"No, I'm free, actually. The teacher I was supposed to sub for changed her plans."

"Wonderful! You'll be substituting for Mrs. Lee for two weeks, starting next Monday. She teaches sixth grade."

"Great! I can be there at 7:30. I take it the lesson plans will be ready for me."

"Yes, everything will be all set. So, we'll expect you then. Do you have any questions?"

"No, no. Well, actually, one question. Is there any dress code?"

"The girls wear uniforms, but I assume you mean for the teachers. The only thing we ask is that you don't wear trousers. Mr. Compson is very strict about that."

"Mr. Compson. He's the principal?"

"Yes, he's the only male member on staff. Don't worry; he's always very professional."

"I was wondering if there would be any objection to me wearing a short skirt."

"No. Most of the teachers are quite a bit older, so short skirts are not too common. And the girls' uniforms have pleated skirts below the knee. You might be wearing the only short skirt in the building. But since this is a girl's school, I don't expect that will be disruptive."

"Good. Well, if you'll excuse me---"

I rang off and went right to our bathroom. I took a shower and shaved all the hair off my body. Then I went to our bedroom and took off all my clothes and underwear and put on my wife's panties. Followed by pantyhose, girdle, longline bra, and slip. I pulled on a pair of her frilly pettipants under the slip. Wearing pettipants is very important. They give you a nice, rounded figure and make it look like you have lovely child-bearing hips. Then I put on one of her dresses and her wig and high heels and checked myself out in the mirror.

I was just putting on make-up when my wife came in.

"What the hell is this?" she said. "Why are you wearing my dress?"

"Well, why was I wearing your dresses the last time I did it?"

"Oh, no. Not this again. Not another substitute teaching job."

"It was your idea."

"Oh, and a great idea it was! It almost got me removed from teaching."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Tell me at least you won't be using my name, this time."

"Honey, how can I use your credentials if I don't use your name?"

"Adam, it's bad enough you keep getting yourself in trouble, but why do you have to get me in trouble right along with you?"

"Annie, it's a girl's school. There won't be any boys to leer at me. What could go wrong?"

"I don't know, but if there's any trouble to get into wearing my dresses, you'll find it. You've been wanting to do this for a long time now, haven't you?"

"It hasn't been that long since I subbed."

"I meant wearing my dresses. I've seen how you look at my dresses. Ever since that one time, you just couldn't wait to try them on again, could you?"

"I haven't been wearing your dresses."

"Maybe not, but you wanted to. What kind of a husband asks his wife how her new dress feels to wear? Or if it feels silky, or if I can feel my skirt brushing against my fingertips as I walk?"

"I am only wearing your dresses to make us some money. Am I wrong in thinking we could use some more money?"

"Alright, fine! Be a woman! Have the operation, for all I care! I don't know why I'm worried. Look at you. You're way too old to look cute in a dress. You're in your fifties. You're really starting to show your age. Your skin is saggy; your face is all pasty and lumpy and doughy. No young boy is going to fall in love with a geriatric old broad like you."

"Annie, that's just mean. Anyway, I told you, it's a girl's school."

"Whatever. When do you start?"

"Monday."

"Then take off my dress! You can wear my dresses on Monday and not before."

"I just wanted to make sure they still fit."

"They fit. Now take off my dress."

"I could really use a weekend in dresses, just to get back in practice."

"Oh, I'll just bet you could! Well, forget it! Take off my dress, right now!"

We spent a tense weekend, with her calling me names like "little Miss Girly Girl" to try to annoy me. Finally Monday morning came, and I chose her shortest, tightest dress to wear to school, a slip-on dress with a black top and a tight white and black houndstooth skirt. I wore dark pantyhose and black high heels.

"Oh, Adam, not that dress!" she said.

"The perfect dress for a geriatric old broad like me."

"You don't have the legs for that skirt, Adam."

"The hell I don't. I don't tell you what dress to wear to school; don't you tell me."

"If you won't dress like a man, can't you at least dress your age?"

"You've worn this dress to work. You're only a year younger than me."

"I look ten years younger. You know, I can still remember our wedding, and the look on your face when you first saw me in my wedding gown. I never realized it was because you wanted to wear it."

I was so mad at her, the first thing I did when I got in my car was take off my wedding ring and put it in my purse.

I arrived at Sapperstein Girl's Academy at 7:30. Some smart alecks like to call it Sappho's Academy, which is very rude and insulting. I must say, even understanding that it was a girl's school, I thought it was a bit much for all the walls to be done up in hot pink. Like being trapped in a bottle of Pepto Bismal.

I was wearing three-inch heels, which might have been a mistake my first day. I knew I'd get used to wearing high heels eventually, but just the walk from my car into the building was enough to give me a cramp.

I bent down to massage my leg when a man I assumed was the principal said, "Annie Williams?"

I looked at him uncertainly, embarrassed that he'd caught me in an awkward position.

"Guilty," I said.

[Alana]

I shook his hand.

"Jason Compson. The principal. Glad to have you with us."

"Jason Compson? Really? Is that your real name? That's a character from a novel."

"I know. 'The Sound and the Fury.' William Faulkner. Luckily, not a widely read novel. You must be very well read. Have you read a great deal of Faulkner?"

"Only because I had to. I hate Faulkner."

"Oh, I am so glad to hear you say that! Everyone is afraid to say it. I hate him too, and not just because he stole my name. All that free association, stream of consciousness nonsense is so infantile."

"I know! I can't stand an author that's always going all out to try to confuse the reader. It's fake profundity, like throwing a little sand in the reader's eyes to make him think he's in the presence of greatness."

"You know, we should get together and start a William Faulkner non-reading group. We can get together and not read his novels."

"And not discuss them when we're done! I love it!"

At that point I noticed that he wasn't making much eye contact.

"Excuse me," I said. "You keep staring at my skirt. Is my slip showing?"

I held my skirt down playfully.

[Alana]

"I'm sorry for staring. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just that most of the teachers at Sapperstein are much older than you. You are definitely wearing the only mini-skirt in the building. Do you always wear such short skirts?"

"I was told there was no dress code for teachers, as long as I don't wear trousers, and I would never wear trousers. I thought I might as well test that out the first day, by wearing my sexiest dress. Do you like it?"

I posed with hand on hip.

[Alana]

"Well, it might be a bit of a problem if this were a boy's school. But the girls at Sapperstein are all very well behaved."

"Would you rather be at a boy's school? I understand you're the only man on staff."

"Well, I think the work we do here is very important. I'm proud of what we've been able to accomplish at Sapperstein. But there are times I wish there was a man here I could talk to."

You're talking to one now, Mr. Compson. And you can't seem to take your eyes off his legs in dark pantyhose.

"So, you are Mrs. Williams?" he asked, with the emphasis on the "Mrs."

"I'm divorced," I said.

Now, what made me say that? Just an impulse, I guess. I was already lying about my gender; might as well lie about my marital status as well. In for a penny, in for a pound. And the way things were going with my wife, it might become true before I knew it.

"I see," he said. "I'm a widower, myself."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Yes. It was less than a year ago. I'm sorry, I shouldn't bring it up. Still rather painful."

"It must be difficult for you."

"Let's not talk about it."

An awkward moment was ended when the bell rang. He said good-bye and we shook hands, and all the time I just had the feeling that he was devouring me with his eyes.

I headed off for class, but I took one quick look behind me to see if he was still checking me out as I left. He was.

Geriatric old broad, huh?

Jason Compson. "The Sound and the Fury."

Faulkner. Stream-of-consciousness is such bullshit. Anybody can do it.

Walking down the hallway the hallway in my sexy tight dress my sexy tight skirt as it tugs as it tugs tugs tugs my legs in pantyhose oh I'm wearing pantyhose how sweet how delicious to wear pantyhose to wear high heels to wear a delectable slip to be a woman to be feminine to be girly every little breath every little breeze caressing my legs going up my skirt how wonderful to be the pursued not the pursuer to be the prize not the contestant to be the hunted not the hunter to be the hope not the hopeful as Jason Compson caresses me devours me with his eyes with his glance with his hopeful hopeful gaze makes me feel wanted feel needed feel desired

Back that Pulitzer truck to my front door and hand me my Prize now, if you please.

Class started. Everything went smoothly for the most part. The lesson plans were all laid out very professionally. Being as it was a private school, it was a much more ambitious curriculum than I was used to in public school. I introduced myself and took the class through math, geography, history, and it wasn't until we got to English that I got myself in trouble.

As to what came next, I can only tell you it was an accident. Perhaps it was brought on by the fact that I felt very comfortable and very much at home teaching at a girl's school. No rambunctious boys making lecherous remarks about the tight dress I was wearing. So I got a little too comfortable, and I just didn't think about what I was doing.

The class was reading "Great Expectations," my favorite novel, and it was my job to sit in front of class as each successive student read a paragraph, and follow along in the book, pointing out any important details and answering any questions.

Now, I swear I started out the reading with my legs properly and modestly crossed, like a lady.

[Alana]

I don't even know for sure when I uncrossed my legs. I just got so involved in the novel ( which is quite funny, by the way, read it if you get a chance ), I started to sit with my legs wide open, without even realizing it.

[Alana]

Then I started to hear a lot of embarrassed titters. The one thing you don't want in a classroom full of girls is a lot of embarrassed titters. I crossly inquired what was so funny.

Jane, the smartest girl in the class, said, "Your underwear is showing, Mrs. Williams."

The girls all laughed, and I looked down, mortified.

[Alana]

I very sheepishly adjusted my skirt.