He came over and stood before me. I moved my leg out of the way.
"How can you tease me like this," he asked, "when you won't even---"
And then he grabbed me by the arms with his powerful hands and lifted me right up off the chair! Before I could say a word of protest, he pulled me toward him and kissed me right on the lips!
"Stop it!" I managed to say.
"You're the first woman I've had any feelings for since my wife died," he said, and kissed me again.
"Stop it! Stop it! I'll scream!"
He forced me against the wall and put his hand up my skirt.
And then he felt it. It. You know. It.
He pulled his hand back in horror.
"Let me go!" I said.
"You're a man!"
"I know! Let me go!"
He let me go, and I tugged my skirt down.
"What are you doing here? Why the hell are you dressed like a woman?"
"For the work. If you would just hire male teachers---"
"What the hell kind of a pervert are you?"
"Pervert? Pervert? Who kissed who?"
"Shut up! I can't believe I was attracted to you. I'm going to have to warn everyone about you. I have to tell them you're a man."
"Oh, and how are you going to explain how you found out? That could be very embarrassing to you."
"You're obviously not Annie Williams. What's your name?"
"None of your business," I said, and realized I had better get out of there before he grabbed me again. I ran out of the office, pausing only to grab my purse.
I ran to the car. I kept expecting him to chase me, but he stayed in his office. I was out of breath and my heart was racing as I started up my car, but I managed to calm down by the time I got home, though my legs were sweating so much it made my nylons glisten.
Why does this keep happening to me every time I put on a pretty dress?
I don't feel sorry for him. Not after what he did to me. Everything would've been fine if he hadn't lost control that way. I don't feel sorry for any man that would do that to me or to any other woman.
When I got in the house I heard my wife doing something in the bedroom. I went in. She was throwing dresses, slips, shoes and lingerie into a suitcase.
"Are we going somewhere?" I asked.
"I'm going somewhere. You said it yourself. You're a woman. And I'm not a lesbian, so I can't be married to a woman. I'm leaving you."
"No! Please, you can't go! I love you! You're my wife!"
"Whatever you say, Miss Girly Girl."
"Please! I'll do anything!"
"You know exactly what you have to do. Stop wearing dresses. Stop being a woman. Prove to me that you're a man."
"Fine. I'll do it. If that's what you want, I'm no longer a woman."
She stopped packing. She stood closer to me, holding a few silk dresses draped over her arm. One of them tickled my legs. It felt very sexy.
"No more dresses?" she asked. "No more prancing around in a frilly dress and acting all girly?"
"No more."
"No more pantyhose? No more lingerie? No more high heels or make-up?"
"I promise."
"What about all your new dresses?"
"They're all yours."
"Including the gown?"
"Especially the gown."
"What about the job?"
"I'll call and tell them to get another girl."
I stepped closer to her and tried to kiss her.
"Stop it! I told you, I'm not a lesbian!"
"Sorry."
"Say that you're a man."
"I'm a man."
"Oh yeah, you're real manly in your lipstick and pantyhose. Adam, how am I supposed to believe you? If you're a man why do you wear dresses? Look at yourself. After all your promises there you are, still in a dress. You haven't made a single move to slip out of that dress, because basically you don't want to. You love dresses more than you love me. Maybe you really are a woman."
"Annie, I promise---"
"Oh, go soak your nylons!"
I unbuckled my dress. I reached down and grabbed it by the skirt and pulled it off over my head. Then I took off my wig. I stood before my wife in my slip. She laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"You just look so ridiculous dressed like a woman."
Really? Jason didn't think so.
With both hands she slid the straps of my slip down off my shoulders. She tugged it down and it fell to the floor, along with my pettipants. I stepped out of it, and took off my high heels. She went behind me and unhooked my longline bra.
"Now take off that girdle. Take off your pantyhose, and your panties, and go wash off your make-up. When you're done with all that, come back in here and I'll make you glad you're a man. I'll make you forget you were ever a woman."
My wife's libido can turn on a dime, that way.
Well, sometimes I've been known to have a rather fast and loose relationship with the truth, but there are times when telling the truth is the last thing you should do. I would be at home when I was unemployed, and Annie would be at work. And all those yummy dresses would still be there. Waiting for me.
THE END
Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: Substitute Teacher 2: Showing My Frillies (Read 21968 times)
