Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => 2011-2018 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: Alana on June 25, 2017, 05:26:24 PM
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A sequel to "I Won't Take Off My Dress."
My first experiment going out in public in a dress didn't go so well. I guess I should've tried it someplace else, any place other than the conservative C. of E. church I attend.
I expected there'd be trouble, but I thought at least they'd let me get through one service in a dress before making a row. I showed up in my pretty lavender dress, and several people recognized me at once. And it was no time at all before the minister showed up, along with several rather angry looking men from the board of deacons.. He wanted to know what I thought I was playing at, and I politely asked if we could postpone that conversation until after the service. He made it quite clear that he'd put up with no such nonsense in his church, and that I was to leave immediately, by force if necessary.
Well, I couldn't see getting into a physical altercation and possibly ripping my pretty lavender dress. I loved that dress. So I left. I went home and cried.
But I was determined not to give up. The next day I put on a rather conservative, businesslike black and white dress, and went to work. I might as well start with a simpler dress and work my way up to some of my more girly frocks. When I arrived I created quite a stir, but at least most of my colleagues didn't seem to be too angry about it. They were amused, as though it were all a big joke of some sort. Well, let them laugh. They can't laugh forever. Eventually they'll get used to me.
Then my boss showed up and took me into his office directly. He took out a big white binder from a file cabinet and opened it up.
"We're well prepared for this sort of situation, here," he said.
"Glad to hear it."
"Though I wish you'd talked this over with me first." He scanned a page, and asked, "Now, what it the estimated date of your surgery?"
"What surgery?"
"Don't waste my time, Chris. Just answer the question."
"Crissy."
"Whatever. Answer the question."
"There's no surgery."
"No surgery?" He slammed shut the binder. "No sexual reassignment surgery? Then what the hell is this? Why are you wearing a dress?"
"I just would prefer to wear dresses."
"You just would prefer to wear dresses. I see. In that case, we don't have to be understanding about this at all. You can stay in that dress for the rest of the day, but that's it. Tomorrow you work from home, but Wednesday you're back in a suit."
"What if I'm not?"
"Well, then I guess you'll be made redundant."
"Oh, come on. Let's be reasonable. If you sack me I'll just have to sue, and that'll be expensive for both of us. And I won't help you train a replacement."
"Chris, plenty of chaps have got it into their heads that they're indispensable just because they've been here a long time. You'd be amazed how quickly you can be replaced."
"What exactly is the worst possible thing that could happen because I'm wearing this dress?"
"You'll make everyone uncomfortable. This is very disruptive behavior."
"How about you give me a couple weeks in dresses, and I'll show you it's not disruptive. People will get used to me, and no one will care any more. You'll see."
He furrowed his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Fine. Fine. But only one week. Let's get this over with. At the end of the week, everyone in the company will vote, except for you. No abstentions. And I must insist on a two thirds majority. If everyone is fine with working with Dame bloody Edna Everage, I'll look the other way."
"I suppose that's fair. But I don't want to work from home any more. That was just an excuse to do some work in a pretty dress."
"You will continue to work from home two days a week. That arrangement works nicely for all of us."
"Oh, all right. Fine. One thing, though. I think it would be less disruptive if I could use the Ladies loo. It might make the lads uncomfortable to see me in the Gent's."
"Well, I think the ladies might have something to say about that. We'll see. I'll check with them."
"We're about the same size, aren't we? By Friday I'll have lots of suits I'll never wear again. Male clothes. You can have them, if you want."
He smiled.
"Trying to buy my vote?"
"Whatever works, as the Americans say. Good morning."
I thought of adding that he was free to borrow one of my pretty dresses, if he'd rather wear that. But why ruin the good effect already achieved?
I went back to work. My boss send out a company-wide email explaining the whole situation, and asking if any woman had any objection to me using the Ladies room. Only one woman objected, a secretary named Lauren. I went right to her cubicle.
"What the hell, Lauren?"
"Don't you attack me, you bloody pervert! I don't have to give you any reason!"
"Please! I don't want to have to use the Gent's dressed like this."
"No one told you to put on a bally frock, you weirdo!"
"How would you like it if they made you use the Gent's?"
"Oh, sod off! Leave me alone!"
I held out as long as I could, then finally I went to the Gent's. I only encountered one man there, but I could tell he was uncomfortable. He was at the urinal, and he was startled when he saw me. He made a move to cover himself up a bit, as though I was just dying to see his twig and berries. At least he didn't say anything.
I came home feeling completely discouraged. I guess I was naïve to think everyone would just embrace the new girl in the office and be happy for me. I dropped my purse on the floor and took off my glasses as I came in the door.
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I told myself I didn't care how they voted, that I'd just keep wearing my dresses to work and let them fire me, if they wanted to. But I wasn't entirely sure I'd have the courage.
I did some laundry. I intended to wear nothing but dresses and lingerie from now on. No slacks, not even women's slacks. So it was a little jarring to see some of my male clothes in the laundry. Kind of like being married to a man who's just died, and there are his things, still there. Except it was more like I killed the bloke myself.
I decided I needed some new friends to help me through this. A support group, or something of that sort. I got out my Ipad and sat down on the couch with my legs crossed, to check things out and see what was available.
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Trouble was, I really wanted to talk to real women about this, not other crossdressers. I wanted to get my support from genuine women. I searched and searched, but I couldn't find any support groups for this with actual women in them.
When evening came, I slipped out of my dress and high heels, and I put on my favorite short pink and white lace nightie. I usually sleep in my lingerie. It just makes me feel more feminine.
I had a dream about Joey. Joey was a friend of my son's, a schoolboy who was very good looking and very attracted to me. I dreamed I was kissing him.
I woke up in a cold sweat. Joey had wanted to kiss me before, and probably wanted to do a lot more with me, but I'd kept putting him off. But now that I was dressing like a woman full time, I started to entertain the idea of letting him have his way with me. He was very sexy, very muscular. And when he looked at me, when he devoured me with his eyes, he saw nothing other than a beautiful woman, and his intense look made me feel gorgeous and feminine and sexy. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea, exploring this possibility.
The next morning, I didn't really feel like working from home. I got up and instead of reaching into my closet for something sexy and elegant, I put on a dowdy old comfortable housedress. I thought of going in to work anyway, instead of staying at home, but I thought, what if I were to just fool around all day and get nothing done? Working from home might be an option that they'd take away from me.
I did a little work, but mostly I just wasted my time watching telly. A little after noon there was a knock at the front door. It was Lauren, the woman who'd objected to me using the Ladies loo. She was wearing trousers, which made me think she had the day off. There's a strict dress code at work.
I let her in. She took one look at me and burst into laughter.
It was forced laughter. Anyone could see that. That was just her little way of insulting me.
"You just look so ridiculous!" she said, and I didn't believe for a minute she meant it. I know how beautiful I am.
"Don't you like my dress?" I asked.
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"Ratty old housedress. I hope that's not a dress you'll be wearing to work."
"No. You're right. It's more for around here."
I poured myself a glass of wine and asked if she'd like one. She declined.
I grabbed a flower from a vase and sniffed it. She frowned.
"Is this what you do from home? Sit around all day getting legless?"
I sat on the couch with my wine.
I pulled back my skirt just slightly.
"The one thing I am not," I said, "is legless. I don't want to work from home any more. It was just an excuse to do some work in a pretty dress. So I'm slacking off."
"I swear you're going to get sacked, all this nonsense. At what point did someone tell you you can just do whatever you want all your life?"
"I can't do whatever I want. I can't even use the Ladies loo, and no one cares about it but you. You're one person, and you have all this power over me, like you're my mum."
"If I was your mum I'd tear that dress off you and give you a spanking. And if I was your dad I'd tell you to straighten up and dress like a man."
"Well, it's a good thing you're not either of those things, isn't it? They're not alive any more, anyway."
"If they were, this'd kill 'em. Listen here, I don't have all day. I came over to explain my objection."
I got up and said, "Please continue. Sure I can't pour you some wine?"
"I'm sure. Listen, unlike most women these days, I identify as a feminist. A feminist means more than just having the right opinion about things. Being a feminist means being an activist."
But that was all I got to hear of her speech, because in the next instant I jumped on top a chair.
There was a small, brown, disgusting mouse in my house! I screamed and lifted my skirt!
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"What the bloody hell!" she exclaimed.
"Right there!" I pointed. She looked.
"Oh, what in the world is the matter with you? That's just a little mouse! Not even a rat! Get down from there!"
"In mouse-woman relationships, this is the proper place for the woman."
"You are not a bloody woman! Get off the chair, you ninny!"
"That's easy to say when you're wearing trousers. That things bites me in the legs, I'll need distemper shots. Get it! Get it out of here!"
"Distemper is what animals get, not humans, you wazzock! And what the bloody hell is the point of lifting your skirt like that, anyway? What does that do?"
I looked down at my skirt. I had to admit, it made no sense to be lifting my skirt in that situation. But that's what I was doing, and I hadn't even thought about it. I let go of my skirt.
That mouse was being brazen, running around making little squeaking sounds, making no attempt to hide from us. Lauren grabbed a bowl of wax fruit. She emptied it, flipped it over and put it over the mouse, trapping it.
"OK. It's trapped. Get down, now."
"Get it out of here! Throw it in the backyard!"
"Oh, I see, so it's OK if I get bit?"
"There's some oven mitts right over there you can use."
"You bloody sissy! Show some backbone!"
She went to the kitchen counter and got the oven mitts on, then grabbed the mouse and threw it into the backyard. Only then could I bring myself to come back down. I took a look at the chair to make sure I hadn't made any holes or dents in it with my high heels.
"Thank you," I said, putting one hand flat against my chest and breathing heavily. She gave me a withering glare.
"I'm getting out of here."
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No. It's just---look, you promise not to pee standing up in there? If I ever come in and find the seat up---"
"You're changing your mind?"
"Oh, why not! Welcome to the Ladies loo, you bloody pervert. You better behave yourself in there."
"Yes, Lauren, I will. Thank you."
"I'll let you get back to doing nothing."
She left. I sat down on the couch and laughed. She called herself a feminist, and here I'd convinced her of my femininity by being all helpless. I hadn't planned it that way, I hadn't even thought about what I was doing. But it worked.
A small triumph, but I could use all the triumphs I could get. Still, I didn't see why she had to talk to me that way.
It made me think of Joey, again. I missed the way he used to speak to me, how he used to touch me and try to kiss me. He treated me with respect as well as affection, and lust. I missed him. I missed the way he used to touch my legs, how he used to try to slide his hand up under my skirt. Naughty boy. It turned me on just to think of it.
I thought of calling him, but I didn't think he'd be home from school, yet. Not until at least half past three.
So, at three o'clock I changed into a cute little colourful sleeveless dress with a short skirt. I was sure Joey had never seen me in that dress, and I knew he'd like it. I made my way over to the empty house. They kept a spare key in one of those phony rocks in the garden.
I let myself in, and waited for him in the kitchen. When I heard him arriving, I hopped up on the counter and posed myself provocatively, showing off my pretty legs.
"Hello, Joey!" I called out.
He came into the kitchen. I touched my luscious legs and smiled. I thought he'd be chuffed to bits to see this tasty little treat arranged for his satisfaction, but one look in his eyes made it clear I'd misread the situation entirely.
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"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.
"Checking my tights. Wanted to make sure my legs look OK. I thought I'd come get your opinion."
"Will you get out of here! My parents think I'm a bloody poof thanks to you! Do you know what it's like to have your father call you gay? Right to your face?"
"I have some idea." I hopped down off the counter and adjusted my skirt. I advanced on him, and he took a step back. "Look, you don't understand. Things have changed. I'm wearing dresses to work, now. I'm not here to tease you; I'm ready to give you what you want. I'm ready to kiss you, and maybe a whole lot more."
He kept backing up.
He said, "I had to go out and get a new girlfriend immediately, thanks to you. A real girl."
"Come on, Joey. You don't want her. You want me. You know you do."
He retreated into the living room. I followed. I sat on the couch and patted the space next to me.
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I knew if I could just get him to sit close to me, it would be no trick to seduce him. But he kept his distance.
I got up and stood right in front of him, leaning against the table.
"What's the matter, Joey? Don't you like my pretty dress?"
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I sat on the table and crossed my beautiful legs.
"Don't you remember when you'd touch my legs and try to slip your hand up my skirt? I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry I wouldn't let you do that before, but things are different now. I promise they are. Look at me. Tell me you're not attracted to me. I'll bet you're hard right now, aren't you?"
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I reached out and tried to feel his crotch, cheeky girl that I am.
He backed away quickly and sat down in the easy chair.
"I won't cheat on my girlfriend," he said.
"Why not? Is she prettier than me? I bet she isn't. Is she young? Is she younger than you? I bet she's really submissive, like a little puppy dog, isn't she? I can be submissive. I can be your cute little puppy dog."
I saw some slippers nearby. I grabbed them, and grabbed the morning paper. I kneeled on the carpet before him.
"What else can I get you, master? Arf. Arf."
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"Get out of here, or I'll take you by the elbow and throw you out."
And he was strong enough to do it, too.
"Tell me. Is she prettier than me? Does she have nice legs? Better than mine?"
I threw down the paper and slippers and arranged my legs, and let him get a very nice, very enticing view up my skirt.
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"Stop it!" he said. I could tell I was getting to him.
I crawled forward and put my chin on his knee.
"Darling," I said, "I don't blame you for playing hard to get. I'm sorry for the way I treated you before." I leaned my cheek against his leg, my head between his thighs. I put one hand on his knee. "Let me make it up to you. Let's kiss and make up."
He stood up abruptly. I fell over.
"Get out! I'm not kidding. Get out of here before my parents get home!"
He grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me to my feet, and roughly forced me to the door.
"Stop!" I protested. "Not so fast! Don't make me trip in my heels."
He threw me outside.
"Don't ever do that again!" he said, and slammed the door.
I stared at the door. I wasn't quite as discouraged as you might think. I knew I'd gotten to him.
"You're not over me," I said aloud.
And I knew I was coming over the next night, for family game night. I had some things in mind for him. This wasn't over.
The next morning I slipped into my wonderful purple floral dress with the full skirt. I twirled, checking myself out in the mirror as I did. I might as well enjoy my time in dresses as much as I could for as long as it lasted, and that dress was pure enjoyment. In that dress I didn't so much walk down the hall, I sort of floated, even danced down the hall, enjoying the lovely feeling of my skirt brushing against my fingers as I went.
I had to go talk to a colleague about a project, and he seemed terribly embarrassed to have to deal with me. And it was made even worse by the fact that wearing that wonderful dress made me feel and act terribly flirty. I sat down, tucking my skirt under me, and crossed my legs. I smiled at him. He didn't smile back. So we got down to business, and as we talked I noticed he couldn't take his eyes off my legs, even though he couldn't see much of them in that dress. I smiled, again.
"I didn't know you were a leg man," I said, sliding my skirt back just a little bit. "If you vote for me on Friday, I promise I'll wear a short skirt for you."
He coloured, and suggested we get back to business.
I saw Lauren that afternoon in the Ladies loo. I was looking in the mirror and freshening my lipstick, and she came out of the stall behind me. She saw me, and shook her head in that exasperated way she has.
"What I don't get," she said, "is why you won't have the operation. Just being so non-committal, not quite a man but not quite a woman, that's what annoys me. I'd have more respect for you if you'd commit to being a woman completely."
I didn't want to antagonize her, though I felt like telling her to mind her own business.
"Well, maybe I will, one day. But I thank you for allowing me in here, Lauren. It makes the men nervous to have me in the Men's room. You know how men are."
"Not as well as you do."
On the way home, I stopped at my favorite dress shop, "Better Dresses", to buy a new dress, something with a short skirt I could wear to Wednesday game night and flirt with Joey. I brought it home.
Before changing into my new dress, I took some pictures of myself in my pretty floral dress, posing with a red heart-shaped balloon. I printed one out on my computer, with a caption about Valentine's day.
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Of course it wasn't Valentine's day, or anywhere near Valentine's day, but I was just in a Valentine kind of a mood. I thought I'd leave the pictures somewhere in Joey's room for him to find. I'd have to be careful his parents didn't find them first.
I printed out another one, in which I was squatting uncomfortably but looking adorable.
I put them both in my purse.
I regretfully took off my pretty purple floral dress. Joey had already seen me in it, anyway, and I was looking forward to flirting with him in something short and sassy and sexy. I changed into my new dress. I quickly had something to eat, and headed off to game night with Joey and his parents.
Beryl greeted me at the door. She always liked having me over for game night because she enjoying seeing how my presence disconcerted her husband, as well as turning him on.
"Crissy! How are you! What a cute dress! Is it new?"
"Just got it this afternoon."
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"Your legs are going to drive my husband crazy. I say, I heard you're wearing dresses to work now. Good on you, girl!"
"How'd you know that?"
"Oh, Mrs. Parkington, you know Mrs. Parkington, just across the street, she saw you driving to work this morning in the cutest purple dress, she said. I wish you'd worn that tonight."
"Oh, but that has a full skirt. I'm sure Karl would prefer to see me in this cute little minidress. Besides, Joey already saw me in that floral dress. Speaking of Joey, is he home? I'd like to show him my new dress."
"Careful, you'll have my husband getting jealous. Joey's upstairs in his room. I'll go get Karl. He's setting up a game of Cluedo for us."
It might've been just a big joke to Beryl, but I was dead serious about Joey. I wasn't just playing around. I wanted him.
I went up to Joey's room. He wasn't there. I took the photos out of my purse and looked around for a nice place to leave them. I finally settled on slipping them under his pillow, then I remade the bed. So he'd find then when he went to sleep that night.
Joey came in from the bathroom.
"You again," he said. But his eyes wandered the whole length of my body as he said it, taking in my legs, my eyes, my lips.
"Of course it's me, again. Who else would I be, again? You? Silly boy."
"Get out of my room."
"Now, is that any way to talk to a woman you've tried to kiss several times?"
"You're not a woman. And I have a girlfriend, now. A real girlfriend."
I saw a camera on a tripod. I went over and stood behind it.
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"I didn't know you're a photographer! You should've told me. I'd love to have you take some sexy photos of me, some afternoon."
I squatted uncomfortably next to the tripod, in a not very ladylike fashion.
"Why don't I come over some time when your parents are gone? I'll wear some sexy lingerie under my dress. I can do a striptease for you, and you take some pics. Wouldn't you like that?"
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"No," he said.
I stood up and came nearer him, so he could smell my perfume.
"I think you would," I said. "I remember all the times you tried to kiss me. I think you still want to kiss me. Why not do it now? Wouldn't you like to find out what it's like to kiss me?"
"My parents might come in."
"Oh, so that's all you're worried about?"
From the bottom of the stairs I heard Beryl calling up, "Come on down, you lovebirds! Dad's got the game all set up."
"You hear that!" he said. "They already think something's going on!"
"Well, they might as well be right, then."
He headed for the door. Before he left, I said, "Joey, you haven't said a word about my new dress! I bought it just for you!"
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"It's fine."
"Just fine? Does it give you any ideas? Does it make you think of things you'd like to do to me?"
He left. I followed him downstairs.
"Mum, you know nothing's going on between us, right? You know I've got a girlfriend? You've seen her."
"I know that, silly. He's a man!"
Karl had a sick look on his face.
The next day was another one of those days when I had to work at home. I used to say that I "got" to work at home, but since I had no one to look at me and appreciate me in my sexy dresses, it was just frustrating. I put on a short sleeveless red and black dress, something that Joey would like to see me in, because I intended to go visit Joey that afternoon.
I made a little sign that said "Be My Valentine." I also picked a rose from my garden. Around three o'clock I went over to his house and let myself in. I arranged myself on his bed and waited for him. I made up my mind I was going to be patient and not call out this time, just let him find me whenever he did.
I'm sure you think this is all very stalker-like behavior. I suppose you're probably right. But I couldn't help myself. I had to have him. And I knew he wanted me too, no matter how much he denied it. I could see it in his eyes.
I heard him coming in the house and up the stairs, but he wasn't alone. He had a girl with him. His new girlfriend, no doubt. They were talking and laughing all the way up.
I didn't panic. I kept my cool.
When they saw me, I said, "Hi, handsome!"
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She wasn't prettier than me. And she didn't have prettier legs.
She frowned.
"Who's this freak?" she asked. I was a little disappointed that she'd figured out so fast that I'm technically a man. But then, I never made any attempt to disguise my voice.
"I told you to leave me alone!" said Joey. "Get out of here!"
"Why don't you ask her to leave, and we can discuss it?" I said.
"No problem!" said the girlfriend. "I don't know what's going on here, but I don't want any part of it. The bloody rumors about you are true, you bloody poof!"
She stormed off, down the stairs, and he went after her, trying to stop her.
I got down off the bed, making sure my skirt didn't ride up, even though there was no one there to see my knickers. I checked myself out in the mirror, then went downstairs to the living room in time to hear the door slam.
I sat down on the couch and crossed my legs. He came back in and stood before me.
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"Darling, why are you wasting your time with her?" I asked. "You know I'm prettier than she is."
"She almost broke up with me, thanks to you."
"You mean she didn't?"
"I convinced her to give me another chance."
"Joey, it's OK with me if you want to date both of us."
He sat next to me and put his hand on my leg. There was that familiar sexy sensation as he started to stroke my leg. He tried to put his hand up my skirt, and this time I let him.
"Let's go outside and talk about this," he said.
We went out to the patio. I sat down on an uncomfortable iron chair, while he paced back and forth. The wind was blowing up my skirt, just a little.
"OK," he said. "I admit it. I can't help being attracted to you. You are so sexy and beautiful and feminine, I can't help myself. But we're going to have to be discreet. I want to keep dating Estella while I'm seeing you."
"Very well. But I want a date."
"A date? Really?"
"I want to get all dolled up in a posh frock and go to an expensive restaurant with you. Don't worry; I'll pay. I'll give you the dosh and you can pay yourself when the bill comes. How about 'La Petite Maison'? Doesn't that sound like fun?"
He looked reluctant.
"You can tell your parents that you're going out with your girlfriend."
"Why is it so important that we go on a date?"
"Because I need this to be a real relationship. I need to know that you appreciate me and that you like being seen with me. It's a girl thing. Trust me, when we get back from this date, I'll give you the greatest night of your life."
He nodded, slowly.
"I'll make the reservations," he said.
Well look at him, being all macho, taking charge!
"Sure. You decide the time."
"Can I come by tomorrow to pick you up at half past five?" he asked.
"That's a bit early. You'll have to wait for me to change. Maybe you can help me into my posh frock."
"I wouldn't mind that."
"Wear nice clothes."
A stray breeze lifted the front of my skirt up, which made him smile. I smiled too, and modestly held down my skirt. It was such trouble sometimes, wearing dresses, but so worth it.
He held out one hand, and lifted me to my feet. He put his other hand on the small of my back, and pulled me toward him. He wanted to kiss me.
"I don't believe in kissing before the first date," I said.
The next day was Friday, the day when voting was to take place. My fate was to be decided.
I put on a pretty lavender chiffon dress, not very appropriate for the workplace. I hoped Lauren would complain to me about it, and she didn't disappoint.
She looked me up and down, and said, "Are you going to work or a picnic? What kind of dress is that to wear to the office?"
I sighed. I looked down at my dress.
"You're right," I said. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to dress. If only there were someone to help me. Someone to take me under her wing and show me how to be a true woman."
I looked at her, full of hope.
"Will you help me?" I asked.
She seemed surprised. She actually seemed to consider it, for two long seconds. Then she laughed.
"Oh, very good! Very nice! Sure, I'll take you under my wing, and be your friend, and take care of you and teach you all kinds of girly things, and help you become a woman. Sure. And then I'll vote for you and get the other girls to vote for you, too. Is that how it works? Not bloody likely. And I don't appreciate you trying to manipulate me like that."
"I'm sorry, Lauren. Really, I'm sorry. Please don't vote against me. I really need your vote. If you vote for me, I promise never to wear this dress to work again."
"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm voting for you, anyway. I just wanted you to know I'm smarter than a bloody three-year-old."
She left, and a few minutes later I came across the chap who'd been staring at my legs on Wednesday.
I looked down at my pretty dress, and said, "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't wear a short skirt today. I promised I would."
"I don't give a toss what you wear," he said.
"Are you voting for me?"
"I'll vote for you on one condition. Stop your blasted flirting. I'm sick to death of you flirting with me. It makes me uncomfortable. You want to be like a woman, be more businesslike."
"But some of the women here are flirts."
"Most of them aren't."
I didn't think I'd be able to promise I'd never flirt with any man in the office ever again, so I only said, "OK. If you vote for me, I won't flirt with YOU any more. I promise, guv'nor. And you can look at my legs all you want, and I won't complain."
"No one wants to look at your bloody legs!"
"Whatever you say."
I whirled around, my full skirt whirling with me, and strode away purposefully. I counted off six paces, and then I turned and smiled at him. And yes, he was standing there, watching me leave.
No, you don't like looking at my legs, do you? Or my pretty dress as it swirls about my body.
The voting was carried out in a very low-tech way. A big box in the break room with a slot in it. Everyone filled out a piece of paper. I wasn't allowed to vote.
The results were announced. Of 69 employees, 46 had voted to allow me to wear dresses to work. I had a two thirds majority!
I jumped in the air, and felt my skirt flutter against my hands as I landed. I was so happy! I almost lost my balance in my high heels, but I didn't care. All the women in the office hugged me, even Lauren. Many of them said they loved my dress.
When I got home, Joey met me outside the door. I hugged him. He gave me two flowers. I appreciated the gesture, even though he'd obviously cut them from my own garden. I took him inside.
We went upstairs together. I let him go up first.
At the top of the stairs, he turned and said, "Is that the dress you wore to work? Doesn't look like something for the office."
"You, too?" I said.
-
"I just meant---"
"Never mind what you think about this dress. I won't be wearing it much longer, anyway. I have to change into my posh frock."
I went past him to the bedroom door.
"You can wait for me downstairs."
-
"I thought you wanted me to help you change."
"I changed my mind. That's a woman's privilege. This gown I bought is so beautiful; I want you to see it for the first time with me in it."
I got into my gown, which showed off my legs beautifully.
I went down the stairs slowly. I thought he'd be waiting for me down there. I wanted to make a sexy, dramatic entrance.
But he wasn't there.
"Joey?" I called out. "Where'd you go?"
Annoying kid. I looked for him out in the backyard. He was ruining my great entrance.
Finally, I heard the sound of the loo flushing. Going to the loo, while I was trying to make my grand entrance and knock his eyes out in this gown! I heard him coming up behind me.
I could still try and get a little drama out of it. I turned around slowly, as slowly as I could, and posed in my gorgeous, sexy gown.
His reaction didn't disappoint. He looked at me, his eyes bubbling over with all those familiar feelings of desire and lust, devouring me with his gaze and longing to devour me with his lips as well.
He stepped forward slowly. He grabbed me and pulled me toward him. I touched his cheek tenderly.
"Patience," I said.
"How can you talk about patience in a dress like that? How can you torture me like this?"
He tried to kiss me, and I squirmed out of his embrace.
He said, "Let's forget about dinner. We can have dinner any time, but I'll never be more in love with you than I am right now. Kiss me."
"Darling, I promise, you'll get all you desire and more after dinner, but I'm not going into 'Les Petite Maison' with ruined lipstick. Speaking of which, I should freshen my make-up before we go. Half a tick."
I sat down on the couch and crossed my legs just so. It's true, I did love teasing him and torturing him with my luscious legs. I could tell how much he wanted me.
"Darling, would you hand me my purse?"
-
He ignored my request. He came forward and stood before me.
"At the restaurant," he said, "I'm not going to be able to see your beautiful legs under the table."
"Well, then, feast your eyes," I said, and leaned back, giving him a good view.
I hoped I wasn't giving him a panty peek. That wouldn't be very ladylike.
"This will have to last you awhile," I said. "No accidentally dropping your knife and peeking at my legs under the tablecloth, now."
He fell to his knees before me.
"You are the most sexy, beautiful, desirable woman I have ever known in my entire life. I want you so much I can barely stand it. Please don't keep me waiting any longer."
He reached out and began to stroke my legs. That familiar electric current of sexual energy went right through me. I arched my back in pleasure, like a cat. He put his hand up my skirt. He came closer to me, his lips hovering just a kiss away from mine.
I put one manicured hand on his chest, stopping him.
"I asked you to bring me my purse," I said.
He did, and I freshened my lipstick, using my compact mirror. I held out a hand to him, and he helped me to stand.
"You took care of the reservations, right?"
He nodded. On my way to the door, he stopped me. He put one hand on my shoulder. I turned to face him.
-
"We're not going to dinner," he said.
"Stop it. We are, too. You're not the one in charge, here."
"I'm the man. Of course I'm in charge."
"You don't even have the money to pay the bloody bill."
"Take off your dress."
"I don't take orders from you."
"The bloody hell you don't!"
He roughly grabbed my dress right at the cleavage, and with one quick rip he tore it almost completely in two!
I was shocked! I stared at him, gobsmacked! He was so strong!
"My dress!" was all I could say.
I was scared. But I was also very turned on. So I didn't even try to stop him when he grabbed me by the back of the neck and finally kissed me for the first time. I grabbed his neck, too. The first time I ever kissed a man, or at least a boy, and it was a kiss to end all kisses! I plunged my lips onto his, our tongues found each other, and I felt myself being scooped up into his powerful arms. He lifted me as though I were a tiny little waif, and I felt like one in his arms. He took me to the bedroom.
We made love. I'll leave most of that to your imagination. It involved two of my orifices, two that men and women both have. I kept my bra and pants on, but he pulled down my tights and my pants just a little bit at the back to allow him access. He accidentally tore my tights at the waistband.
I'd never done that with a man, or a boy, before. It was amazing how quickly I took to it. As Joey got up off the bed, I put on my silk robe and let my eyes roam about his finely chiseled features, his muscular physique. I was bathed in something they call the afterglow, and so was he. I could've spent the rest of my life in that bed, looking at him, drinking him in, loving him.
-
But we had dinner reservations. And I was wearing torn tights. I got up and headed for my closet.
"Where are you going, beautiful?"
"Where do you think I'm going? To put on a dress, for dinner. Try not to tear this one off me."
-
"Crissy---"
I left him, and took a moment to change out of my tights. I put on stockings and suspenders. I also put on some jewelry. I looked in my closet, but couldn't decide which dress to wear. I grabbed two of them and came back in.
"Which dress should I wear?" I asked. "I know you've seen me in my fuchsia lace dress before, but I also know how much you love it. I'll wear it if you like, but I think for a fancy place like 'Les Petite Maison' I should wear something elegant, like my white dress. I've got a hat that goes with it. Let me try it on for you. You can decide a lot better if you see me in it. How much time do we have? When's our reservation?"
-
"There's no reservation. Please sit down, Crissy."
I dropped the dresses. I sat down on the edge of the bed.
"No reservation?"
"Please understand, darling. I can't be seen with you in that restaurant. I'm still in school. If the other blokes found out about it, I'd never live it down. I'm sorry."
My eyes started to fill with tears, but I wasn't about to let him have the satisfaction. I turned away.
"It will be different," he said, "once you've had the operation."
"What operation? Oh, not you too! Why does the whole bally world want me to---"
I stood up.
"Get out!" I exclaimed. "Just get out! You tear my dress off, you ravage me, you tear my tights, and now you're ashamed to even be seen with me! Shame on you for treating a woman that way! Get out!"
He stood and said, "I'm sorry."
"Just go."
He left, and I immediately regretted what I'd blurted out. I almost called out for him to come back, but the words caught in my throat. I went and looked at myself in the mirror.
So what if he wanted to keep this thing private? So what if he wanted to keep his other girlfriend? So what if I was the other woman? At least I was a woman. Why couldn't I be patient with him? After all, I hadn't even wanted to kiss him at all, at first. He had been patient with me, hadn't he? Why shouldn't I be patient and understanding with him? Eventually he'd see that he was being silly. Of course we could go out on a date together. Of course we could.
I heard him down below. I looked out into the backyard. He was right there, looking up at my bedroom window. He seemed just physically unable to leave.
"Oh, you're not over me, Joey. You'll never be over me."
I picked up my white dress and slipped it on. I put on the matching hat that went with it. Then I went downstairs to see my lover.
I met him on the back porch. He approached tentatively.
"Hello," he said. "I see you went with the white dress."
"I did, yes. Do you like it, darling? Tell me the truth."
"Truthfully, I wish you'd worn that sexy fuchsia lace dress."
"Honey, don't you know by now, when a woman asks you to tell her the truth, that means lie like you've never lied before."
"Sorry, it just doesn't do anything for me."
"It's OK. I won't be wearing it much longer, anyway."
He grabbed me and kissed me, forcing my back against the glass door. I reached out for the door handle, before he pushed me right through the glass.
"My dresses have zippers, you know. You don't have to rip them apart to get at me."
As he was kissing me, he reached behind my back and unzipped me.
"What are we going to do about dinner? Aren't you hungry?"
"Only for you, darling," he said.
We never made it to the bedroom, that time.
THE END