By Constance Grant (ConnieBabe69@hotmail.com)
The necessary stuff:
Copyright
December 1999, 2000 (all rights reserved) by Constance Grant, Manasquan,
NJ 08736
This story may be posted on any site where
the end user is not directly charged without my explicit permission. All other use must be individually
negotiated with the author. I would
appreciate being notified by the web master or mistress when this story is
posted. Constance Grant, email =
ConnieBabe69@hotmail.com
This is
a work of fiction. The events described
here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not
intended to represent specific places or living persons.
I WOULD RATE THIS STORY AS ‘R,’ LOVING SEX
BETWEEN A MAN AND A WOMAN IS EXPLICITLY DESCRIBED IN THE EPILOG, AND CROSS
DRESSING OF A MAN IN FEMALE ATIRE IS DESCRIBED IN DETAIL. IF ANY OF THE PRECEEDING ARE SUBJECTS YOU
WOULD RATHER NOT CONSIDER, OR FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE READING ABOUT, OR IF YOU ARE
UNDER EIGHTEEN (BECAUSE OF TG CONTENT) - DO NOT READ THIS STORY!
Dedicated to Abe and Sheila, it’s a shame they never met their Pete.
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The Fun Stuff:
Sam couldn’t sleep. It was very early as he considered the pistol on his hands. He looked distracted as he remembered the day that he purchased it.
It was a bright cheerful day in Downieville eight years ago, which itself was located amidst the near paradise of Tahoe National Forest, California. Ben and he had been shooting iron critters, and Ben had cleaned his clock. It wasn’t that he missed often; it was that his Dan Wesson .357 Super Magnum hadn’t sufficient terminal energy to reliably knock over the heavy iron targets unless hit just so. Ben used his new Ruger.44 Magnum, and while he missed occasionally, the iron fell each and every time he hit it.
Now this will do the job Sam thought as he looked at the sleek stainless steel .50 caliber single action revolver – he purchased it on the spot along with the loading dies, bullets, and shell casings needed to load his own ammunition, fifteen hundred bucks if he remembered correctly.
Due to Federal restrictions and the distance from his home in Woodside, it was two weeks before Sam was able to pick up the pistol, however in that time he had loaded several hundred cartridges and was ready to clean Ben’s clock. And he did, naturally Ben purchased a .50 that day, and from then on the matches were even. Although Sam owned over fifty guns, the .50 became the weapon he kept ready for home defense. Why?
Well it was big and intimidating, fear failing it was heavy and could be used as a club, deadly force required – the special “Safety” bullets made with thirty or so birdshot in a copper cup bullet would stop any attacker cold, and not penetrate walls to kill or wound unintended victims.
It was also the perfect gun to kill himself. For the umpteenth time in the past year, Sam considered the act. Sam was badly depressed and sinking deeper as time went on, an agnostic, he calmly accepted that it was only a short time before he would most likely cease to exist.
There was one matter to clean up and he resolved to do the deed once that was completed. His lawyer and long-term friend, Alex Marshal, had drawn up the papers and he thought that they were satisfactory. Sam placed the pistol on the documents, and went over all the details in his mind. He concluded that it was the best he could do.
The doorbell rung, and Sam looked at the clock. “Shit that’s Ben, and I still have to take a shower.” With that, Sam put the pistol in his desk drawer, locked it, and hurried to the shower adjacent to his study.
As Ben waited at the door he reflected for the umpteenth time lately how depressed Sam was, for, Christ for almost two years, and it was getting worse. Ben and Sam were closer in many ways than brothers, they were business partners, friends, and shared many common interests. However, while Ben was outgoing and wore his heart on his sleeve, Sam was introverted and a very private person. Ben never really knew what was on Sam’s mind.
Catherine answered with a big smile, “Come on in Ben, he’s just finishing his shower. I have coffee and Danish for you both in his den.”
“God, but you are a life saver Catherine. How is Betty?”
“She’s doing great, I spoke to her yesterday. She just loves pre-med and feels she made the right decision. The only bad thing from my point of view is that she landed a great summer job with Syrll Pharmaceuticals. So, she won’t be coming home this summer or spring break.”
“Syrll is a great company, we have done a lot of work for them. Is she in their work/study program?”
“Yes, if all goes well she will be with them right through med-school, and then be hired as a research scientist for some obscene salary. Girls have a lot of opportunities these days, that’s for sure.”
“Well Betty is a great kid, she deserves it.” Ben reflected, that behind the scenes at Betty’s request, Sam had arranged for the interview and made sure the right people saw her application, but Ben knew that in the final analysis Betty had sold herself - once ‘her foot was in the door.’
“Okay Ben, please have a seat and enjoy some coffee, I’m sure Sam will be right out. I was on the phone to Maggie and I have to get back.”
Ben noticed a book and papers on the seat he would normally take, and remembering Sam’s habit of ‘positional filing,’ Ben sat behind Sam’s desk rather than move the papers. His eye fell on the document in front of him, and seeing his name, he picked it up and began to read.
He was shocked; it was an agreement for him to buy out Sam’s interest in the company. However, what rattled Ben was the unmistakable odor and slight stain from Hoppies Gun Oil. In a flash of intuition, he realized Sam was planning to kill himself, and provide for Catherine and Maggie when he was gone. Their company’s life Insurance made no payouts for suicides.
Sam was stiff and let the hot water beat on his sore back, the damn couch was uncomfortable. He wasn’t deliberately keeping his old friend waiting, as he knew Ben would need time to drink his allotted two cups of Catherine’s great coffee. Sam wondered idly if there was coffee in the hereafter, that is, if there was a hereafter.
His back felt a little better and after drying himself off, he dressed in the clean clothes Catherine had hung up for him. Their presence here was like a barb - a barb that reminded him of the loss of intimacy with Catherine. He didn’t know what to do to get that back, and despaired of ever doing so. Shrugging off his despair, he joined his friend in the study.
Seeing Ben reading the document Sam said, “I tried to be fair Ben, I hope the terms meet with your approval.”
Ben’s mind raced, he had to buy time. “Sam, this is a complete surprise to me. Will you give me a few days to think about it, and to get an outside opinion?”
Sam didn’t look happy, he had made up his mind and wanted to get on with it, but what Ben was asking was reasonable. “Sure Ben, take as much time as you need – I will be flexible, just let Alex or I know any problems, I’m sure we can work them out.”
“Good, but Sam, why?”
“Why not? The place runs as well with or without me now, our new wiz kids understand the application of neural network theory to our client’s problems as well as I. Give them their heads and things will be fine.”
“I’ll give this serious thought, but in the meantime, what are your thoughts on the Norton situation?”
“That’s a strange one….”
Sam became professional as he focused on a problem he could solve.
After Ben dropped off Sam at the office, he drove back to Sam’s house. He told Sam he had to stop over at his bank and then see his broker, and his secretary that he was available from his pager. He was thoughtful as he rang Sam’s doorbell.
“Hi Catherine, long time no see.” Ben said with a big grin.
“Oh darn, what did he forget this time?”
“Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you, have any more coffee?”
“Sure, come into the kitchen, I’ll ditch Maggie, she is back on the phone again, and I’ll be all yours.” Catherine saw nothing strange in this, as they all had been friends since college.
Seated at the table in the large kitchen, Ben took a sip of coffee while Catherine seated herself. Catherine was neat and trim, she always reminded Ben of Mrs. Carver. With help from a cleaning service twice a week, she kept the large home neat and spotless to a fault.
“What's on you mind Ben?”
“I don’t know how to ask this tactfully, and if it’s none of my business tell me, but why does Ben want to sell me the company?”
“I don’t know… this is the first I’ve heard of it. Are you sure, I thought he loved his work.”
“Yes I’m very sure. We haven’t been socializing much since Sandra and I divorced, have you noticed why Sam is so depressed lately.”
“I hadn’t noticed his being depressed, I really wouldn’t know how he is feeling.”
“You really haven’t noticed anything strange.”
“No, nothing except this business of selling his interest, but I guess it’s his company and he can do anything he wants with it.”
Ben couldn’t understand Catherine’s attitude, but outside of seeing her most mornings as he picked up Sam, he realized they had had no social interaction. Since, Christ it was over two years, since his divorce went through. And he thought ruefully, most the girls he was seeing these days were well – not very presentable to a lady like Catherine.
Something is badly wrong he decided, and didn’t mention his suspicions of Sam’s impending suicide. He made some small talk and left. Catherine seemed totally unconcerned, it was almost as if Sam didn’t matter to her at all.
Ben noticed that Sam was meeting with the wiz kids, in that setting he was animated – his old self. Doctor Sam Whitley, boy wonder mathematician, PHD in advanced mathematics from Stanford at nineteen, PHD in advanced particle physics at twenty, MBA at twenty-one. Ben was seriously worried about his old friend, and once in his office, he closed the door and thought the whole thing through.
Dr. Peter (Pete) Wilson, the marriage counselor Sandra and he had seen was a practicing psychiatrist, as well as a hell of a nice person. He wasn’t able to reconcile them, but he was able to work through their anger, and now that they weren’t married, they were friends again. Sandra had remarried, to Mark Wallace her gynecologist, and now he had his many dollies.
“Dr. Wilson’s office, how may I help you?”
“Hi Marsha, this is Ben Smith, is Pete available?”
“Hi Ben, those tickets you got me for Kiss were super, thanks again. Pete is with a patient, can I have him call you back?”
“Sure, I’ll wait in my office for his call – Marsha please tell him it’s very important, I really would like to see him for ten minutes or so.”
“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”
“Thanks, does that cover, say tonight, I mean for us.”
“Wicked boy, I can’t wait – my place or yours? …”
Ben was thinking of Marsha, in addition to working as a receptionist for Pete, she was a registered sex therapist. What she didn’t know about how to derive pleasure from sex just wasn’t worth knowing. Ben was smiling when Pete called twenty minutes later.
“Ben, Marsha tells me you are corrupting her morals again.”
“Christ Pete, that’s better than I hoped for, she really said that?”
“Getting off on my office help, and now you want ten minutes for yourself with me, you gone bi or something?”
Chuckling a little, “No Pete, I’m calling about a very close friend.”
“I’ve heard that one before, but I’m easy. How about you take me to lunch – twelve thirty at Chad’s sound good?”
“I’ll meet you there. Until then, bye”
Chad’s Steak House was crowded, but Ben and Pete were taken directly to a table off to itself where they could talk privately. After cocktails were served and their order taken Pete said, “Well Ben, what’s on your mind?”
“Do you remember meeting Sam Whitley during your interviews with our close friends?”
“Yes, he was your partner in your business, nice guy as I remember.”
“Yes, you have the right guy. He is my best friend and I have strong reason to believe he intends to kill himself.”
“What makes you think so?”
Ben told Pete about Sam’s desire to sell his share of the business, the gun oil on the contract, and Catherine’s total lack of concern for Sam. This total lack of concern was from a woman who used to be very concerned by the least little thing having to do with Sam’s well being.
“That’s pretty thin. You couldn’t take that to the police or anything.”
“Pete, I have damn good intuition – I know I’m right – Sam is planning to off himself. I thought I could get you two together on some pretext or other, well you are dynamite reading people, as a favor to me.”
“Ok, I’ll see him – after lunch Marsha will give you an appointment. Now let me pick you brain about Sam and his wife as well as his attitude towards work.”
Pete took out a digital tape recorder and over lunch did just that, completely and efficiently.
“Do you think you could get Catherine into see me too?”
“Yes, I think so.”
As Sam got in Ben’s car Monday morning Ben said, “I talked to Benson (Ben’s attorney) over the weekend, he strongly suggested that I have you talk to a specialist regarding the sale of your share of the business. He is concerned that there is no hint of duress involved, which might create problems with the validity of the transaction later on.”
This was nonsense and Ben knew it, so he was prepared for resistance from Sam. However, Sam simply said, “Ok, makes sense, when can we do it?”
“How about now, I checked with Lucy (Sam’s secretary) and she said you are free for a few hours.”
“Ok. Who will I see?”
“You remember Pete Wilson?”
“Yeah, he was your marriage counselor wasn’t he, why would he be interested?”
“Marriage counseling is only part of what he does, he is a clinical psychiatrist as well, and has standing with the court as an expert witness.”
“Ok.”
Pete had come in early, cancelled his first two appointments, and as a result had over two hours to devote to Sam when he walked into his office. An anxious Ben waited in the waiting room – kind of hoping Marsha might come in early. Friday night was spectacular and he was pretty well recovered by today.
“Hi Sam, good to see you again.” They shook hands and sat in easy chairs a foot or so apart. “Since our meeting has to do with a legal matter I would like to record this conversation, if you don’t mind.”
Sam thought for a minute and said, “That makes sense. Sure, go ahead.”
“Good,” Pete pressed a button on a small cassette recorder, placed it on the small table between them, and continued, “Your name is Dr. Sam Whitley?”
“Yes.”
“You reside at….”
Pete asked twenty or thirty innocuous questions like that, designed mainly to lull Sam a bit and have him forget the conversation was being recorded. However, Pete was a little more devious; three hidden cameras were videotaping both him and Sam, and would continue to do so regardless of the state of the cassette recorder.
Sam seemed very relaxed and asked Pete, “It seems to me that selling my interest in my company is a fairly straight forward matter. Exactly why would you need to talk to me?”
“Well normally it would be, but I think you can see how questions could be raised after your body is found. Suicides are always thoroughly investigated by the police.”
The color drained from Sam’s face, his body became ridged, and his hand twitched. “What did you say?”
“Nothing much, just that suicides are always treated with suspicion. I need to know what your real reasons are, and be certain Ben isn’t pressuring you in any way – I’m sure you can understand that. Can’t you?”
“Wha… what wakes you think I will kill myself?”
“You are, aren’t you?”
Sam froze like a dear in headlamps; he said nothing for a good three minutes. Pete just waited for Sam to speak, looking totally unconcerned.
“Yes.” Sam said almost inaudibly.
“Fine, now lets talk about why. How long have you been feeling depressed?”
“It started almost two years ago.”
“That’s interesting, did Ben cause it in any way?”
“No, I did, it was all my fault.”
“Interesting, then your depression stems from a identifiable event, that’s good. What was it?”
“This is embarrassing.”
“I’m a doctor Sam, there is no need to feel embarrassed, besides I have to know. What did you do?”
“It’s a very private thing, I’ve only told my wife – and that was a disaster.”
“What did you do?”
“I got caught.”
“Caught doing what?”
“My wife found out I cross-dressed.”
“I see, lots of men do – tell me all about it?”
“Ok, it isn’t a new thing. I had a twin sister, from a very early age we would dress in each other’s things, it was a game we played and mother and dad let us. Obviously, we weren’t identical twins, but we looked identical until Sharon hit puberty, and of course a year or so latter when I did, the resemblance diminished. This sounds foolish as I say it, but I got in the habit of studying in a dress. In fact, I wore all Sharon’s things from the skin out.
She liked to dress in my clothes, fix her hair like mine, and mine like hers – it was a game with us. Whenever I would go outside or play with my friends I would dress in my things – except for Halloween and a few costume parties, when we would reverse roles in public. We were very good, and only people we told ever knew.
I didn’t have a normal schooling, because my sister and I were considered prodigies. My parents moved to an apartment in Santa Clara so we could attend a special school. Even so, I graduated the special high school at fourteen a year ahead of Sharon. I chose a private room in the dorm at Stanford, and was given one – even though I was on a full scholarship. While I was at college, when in my room I continued to study in a dress. I missed Sharon terribly, we always shared a room together, and I guess wearing each other’s things made us feel closer. I even slept in a nightgown, and wore little studs like she did. During the day I would wear just one earring, and since my hair was relatively long, it wasn’t very noticeable anyhow.”
Pete wasn’t surprised at Sam’s openness. With the pressure that Sam was under; Sam needed someone to talk to. Pete leaned back and just listened, it seemed like Sam was compelled to tell him the story.
“At fifteen I got my first wet dream, and grew to my present five foot eight, I have always been slender and been told I have a baby face. However, I gradually stopped dressing, as my school work load increased. I absentmindedly walked outside my room several times dressed. Fortunately, I wasn’t recognized – but I was frightened by my forgetfulness, and almost stopped altogether by the time I was seventeen.
At eighteen, I met Catherine, she was the first girl I ever went out with, and I was the first boy to ever kiss her. Her upbringing was as sheltered as mine, and her family was devout Episcopalian. She was an English major, and I met her in the pizza place on University Avenue where she had a part time job. Her dorm was near mine and I would walk her to work and then back to the dorm. At a party one night our friends gave us Long Island Ice Tea, neither of us had drank alcohol before, nor fully realized we were then. Before we knew it, the great tasting ice tea had us high as kites. We staggered to my room, and as we sobered a bit, we made love. I barely remember doing it, and Catherine says she doesn’t remember us doing it at all. It was our one and only time before our wedding day, nevertheless five months later we were married, four months after that Betty was born.
We lived off campus in a two-bedroom apartment. The owner’s daughter would watch Betty for us while we were attending classes. Naturally, I had none of my sister’s clothes there, nor did I mention my crossdressing to Catherine.
The first two years we were married were financially very rough, while Catherine’s parents were well off, they considered us sinners and didn’t help us. My parents were having a rough time and couldn’t help us. We lived on Catherine’s income from the Pizza place - the free pizza the owner would give her - and the small salary I received as a graduate assistant.
Then twin disasters happened, Sharon was in an ultimately fatal automobile accident, and Catherine developed an infection rendering her sterile. Sharon’s accident resulted in a very large insurance settlement, and she lived long enough to leave half to me, and half to our parents.
That was just after I received my MBA. I received an appointment to the faculty at Stanford. In addition to teaching, I did research in mathematics and physics – specifically computerized neural networks and their application to particle physics. Within three years, working on my own, I discovered an application of neural networks to several previously intractable business problems. I had known Ben since I was eighteen, but it was during this time we became fast friends.
Between money from his father, and my inheritance from Sharon, we started our present company. It was rough for the first few years, but once we proved out theories actually worked, we had more work than we could handle, and steadily expanded to our present large business. In that entire time, Ben and I never had a serious disagreement, and I believe we love each other as brothers.
The nature of our business is such that I, or now either of two other scientists, must visit new clients and set up neural networks specific to their business. These visits occurred six to eight times a year, usually took a week or two. While at the customer’s location, I spent a lot of time in my room designing the networks.
I can’t tell you why, but whenever I was alone like that, I felt a compulsion to dress like my sister. It was very strong and soon I gave in. I started out with a simple nightgown, but within a year or two, I had two complete outfits, after five years I would even go out dressed. I never had a problem, even though I was not very good looking. I had feminine mannerisms down pat, and had no trouble walking in heels. I could even pitch my voice to sound like a believable girl.
I guess this went on for close to fifteen years, anyhow until two years ago.”
Sam paused for almost a minute and Pete asked, “Sam, would you like to be a woman, and have relationships with men?”
“No, I want to make one thing clear, I am not a homosexual; I have never had sex of any type with anyone other than my wife. When I dress; it makes me feel better and satisfies my compulsion. You have my word of honor on that, and I don’t give that lightly – in fact, I don’t lie – even though there are times I’m sure I should have. Another thing, I love my wife very much, until two years ago we had regular sex. We were very conventional, but we cuddled every night I was home – we never slept apart.”
“What happened two years ago Sam?”
“I have a locked room in my cellar where I keep most of my guns and my reloading equipment, this is where I kept my suitcase with my female clothes. Catherine almost never went in that room, the suitcase was normally kept in a locked cabinet, and only I had the combination.
Two years ago the airline misplaced my suitcases, normally when that happens I make a trip to the airport and pick them up. This time, when the airline called I was in a meeting, and a temporary office worker told the airline to deliver the bags to my house.
As soon as Catherine received them, she took them downstairs to our laundry room, and then she opened them.
When I got home, I heard crying from the basement, and I went downstairs. I found Catherine in tears, with the open suitcases holding one of my dresses. When she saw me she choked back her tears and asked, “Just who do these belong to?”
Well, what could I say? I told her just what I told you, one hundred percent the truth. I realize now that I probably should have lied to her, and told her the airline delivered the wrong bag. I don’t know whether you will understand, but thinking back on that day, I believe I wanted to tell her. After all, she was my wife, my closest friend, and I was tired of sneaking behind her back.
She didn’t believe me at first when I told her about my crossdressing; she believed it all belonged to another woman who traveled with me. I offered to dress for her and show her these were my things, but she called me depraved, and refused to consider that explanation. Just then Betty, my daughter came home. Catherine asked me to go upstairs and give her a chance to fix her face, and for me to order in Chinese.
I did, at the dinner table nothing was said. It wasn’t until we went to bed and I tried to kiss her as usual that she refused, telling me to stay on my own side of the bed. I felt bad, helpless really, but she wouldn’t talk to me.
The next day I looked downstairs and didn’t see that suitcase, I didn’t have much time as just then Ben came for me, so I forgot about it. I never saw my female clothes again, and I assume Catherine threw them out. I called her several times that day, but as soon as I mentioned anything about dressing, she hung up.
For the past two years it’s been the same, we have never discussed it. The next day I did tell her I promised never to do it again, and I haven’t, but she said she didn’t care any more.
At first, she simply kept to her own side of the bed and refused any physical contact with me. Then she started wearing facemasks, clay things that she knew I hated. Then she spent hours in the bathroom; just as I would go to sleep, she would get into bed and turn on the television. She knew I couldn’t sleep well with it on, and after awhile I started going to my den to sleep on the couch. She made up the guest room, but I never used it – that would be like giving up entirely. When she moved my things in there I moved them back. After a few times she gave up, but would put the clean clothes I would wear the next day in the den’s bathroom – and lock the bedroom door to me.
Catherine is always polite, and when Betty was home things outside the bedroom were normal, I even lied and said I was in the den so much because I had a lot of work to do. Betty knew there was a problem, but neither Catherine nor I tried to get her to take sides.
It wore on me, at first I thought she would forgive me after a while, but she didn’t. I have the compulsion to dress all the time now, and it’s driving me crazy. I miss the intimacy I shared with Catherine, not just the sex, but the cuddling and warmth together at night. I have lost that which I love, it’s worse than if she had died, the deliberate shunning of me has destroyed my soul. That is why I must leave this world, my soul has already left.”
“Why are you selling the business?”
“I don’t believe my insurance will payout if I commit suicide, I must leave Betty and Catherine provided for, I can’t duck that responsibility. If I don’t have an agreement with Ben for my share, it could be years before the company is liquidated and money it is worth would be available.”
“I assume you are wealthy enough. Why don’t you simply divorce her, and move on with your life like Ben has done?”
“I gave my word, ‘to death do us part.’”
Pete then began asking questions, in rapid order. There were two reasons behind this, first to see if Sam’s answers were consistent, and second to match against Catherine’s answers to the same questions. The session lasted almost two hours, and at the end, Pete stood up. He asked Sam if he could draw some blood, explaining he wanted to test for drugs among other things. After he has filled several vials, Pete shook Sam’s hand and said he might want Sam to come back a time or two.
Pete toyed with having Sam committed, he probably had enough on tape, but he decided to talk to Catherine first. He didn’t believe Sam would do the deed before Ben signed the agreement. It was a significant risk, because in Pete’s considerable experience, people lie, lie all the time – but he was curious, what would Catherine have to say?
“I’ve met Dr. Wilson if you remember, why are you bringing me here Ben?”
“Sam has a real problem, I thought you might be able to help him.”
“It isn’t my business, he is perfectly capable of working out his own problems.”
“Are you mad at me Catherine?”
“No, whatever gave you that idea?”
“Sam is my best friend, if you won’t do it for him – will you do it for me?”
Catherine paused, Ben got out of the car and opened Catherine’s door, and stood there holding the door and saying nothing. Almost five minutes went by; finally, Catherine sighed and joined Ben. Both thought the little drama went unnoticed, but Pete was watching the whole thing from his office window, he smiled.
Pete met them in the reception room and invited Catherine into his office, this time he arranged for Catherine to sit in a comfortable armchair and he sat behind his desk. Two cameras were on Catherine, one from the front showing her head and shoulders, and one from the side, which showed her whole body. Another focused on him. He went through the charade with the tape recorder and began.
“Good morning Catherine….”
He asked the usual thirty or so questions to put her at ease and then asked, “Catherine, Ben has been offered Sam’s portion of the business, for a fair price. He is considering taking Sam up on his offer. The problem Ben has, is that Sam plans to commit suicide, and he is fearful the terms of the purchase might be disputed.
The problem you have is that the agreement offered to Ben names you and Betty as the beneficiaries of the future payments pledged by Ben. This puts Betty and you in the unenviable position of being prime suspects in Sam’s murder, that is if the police investigation doesn’t buy suicide.”
Catherine sat up straight saying, “Sam would never commit suicide, he couldn’t even kill animals. He loved to shoot, but shot iron animals and paper targets.”
“My point exactly, dozens of people would tell the police the same thing. The only way I could convince them otherwise is if I could prove he was sufficiently depressed to actually kill himself. I need your help to do that.”
“How do you know he will do it, did Ben tell you?”
“Ben told me that he suspected. Sam has been depressed, it started two years ago and has reached this point now – however he does his work with enthusiasm so ordinary acquaintances wouldn’t notice, only long term friends like Ben have noticed.
However, to fully answer your question, Sam told me too. He was sitting in that chair and told me – flat out, with no ambiguity – and I believe him. Unfortunately there is little I can do to stop him; all I might be able to do is ease the burden of his passing on those he leaves behind.”
“Go to the police, commit him somewhere for Christ sake. That would stop him.” Catherine demanded.
“Won’t work, this is California in nineteen ninety nine, and while I might delay him for a few weeks, he will take his life before the month is out. I will bet money on that.” Pete had his fingers crossed.
“I haven’t noticed – no wait. Sam says that it… Do you say his depression goes back two years?”
“That’s what Ben says.”
“We had a severe personal problem, about then, but I really don’t think it bothered Sam all that much.”
“Tell me about it.”
“No, it’s very personal.”
“I’m a doctor, its all right to tell me – after all it’s in your own best interest.”
Catherine thought for several minutes, once Pete thought she was about to get up and leave, but to his relief she finally said.
“To understand where I’m coming from, you have to know our other dark secret. Sam and I met in college, we went out for almost a year, and then we went to a party and some of Sam’s friends gave us Long Island Ice Tea – a lot of it. I wouldn’t be surprised now if he didn’t put them up to it, however we both got tipsy. We made love that night, we were unmarried, and regardless Betty our daughter was conceived. He used no protection. After I missed my period he said he never expected to have sex until he got married, I know I wasn’t on the pill, because I damn well knew I wasn’t going to have sex before marriage.”
“So he raped you then.”
“No, my will was weakened by the alcohol, but I was willing enough, even by today’s standards - besides Betty resulted from that union, I could never regret that. In fact we continued seeing each other regularly, but of course we didn’t repeat our intimacy until we married.”
“Sorry to interrupt, please go on, when did you marry?”
“Four months before Betty was born, at first it was very difficult, there was almost no money. At the time I admired Sam, and didn’t begrudge him his education – he is absolutely the smartest person I ever met.
When his twin sister died, she left us a considerable sum, Sam invested most of it in their business, it was Sam’s concept, but they both worked like dogs to make it successful. Sam would go on frequent business trips listing ten days or more, and until I found out his secret two years ago, I never suspected anything was amiss. I know now he would – I can’t tell you its just too horrible.”
“Was he a child molester, did he murder his illicit lovers…?”
“No nothing like that! In comparison to those things, it’s downright tame. He would dress as a woman and solicit sex from men, there I’ve told you.”
“Did Sam tell you that?”
“He told me he dressed like a woman. I didn’t believe him at first. My first thought was that he traveled with a woman and told me the crossdressing story to cover that up. However I hired a detective agency to trace his movements on recent trips, and he was able to secure pictures from surveillance cameras clearly showing Sam dressed as a woman. I didn’t believe them until the agency I hired, showed me computer enhancements eliminating the effects of makeup. Once I saw that demonstration, all the pictures were clearly Sam, besides he only had two complete outfits, and he was in only one.”
“Was the agency able to provide pictures of homosexual activity, was he ever photographed with a man?”
“No, there was no hard evidence. But that is what the detective said transsexuals usually do, why go out dressed as a woman if not for purposes of sex?”
“I don’t know, do you look for sex whenever you go out?”
“Heavens no, I never do, but that is hardly the same thing.”
“No, I suppose not. Do you remember if his clothes had evidence of sex, it is probably unmistakable, homosexual love is often much messier than heterosexual love.”
“No, as I remember they were worn but presentable – Sam is usually fastidious about his appearance. I kept the things intact.”
“Would you mind giving them to me, I have a friend in the police lab who will check them for me, it won’t prove he didn’t, but might prove if he did.”
“I’ll give the locked suitcase to Ben, I’ll ask he bring it to you. Please don’t tell him it’s contents – it’s ok with me if the police lab breaks the lock.”
“Ok, one more personal question. Was Sam sexual potent when he returned from his trips, or was he disinterested in you.”
Catherine turned scarlet, after a minute she said, “He was horny as hell if you must know, and for a few days after his return he couldn’t love me enough. Frankly, that’s why I never suspected.”
“Then he was able to produce significant amounts of semen?”
“Very significant, it was downright messy at times. We used a towel to save the sheets.”
“That’s a little strange, if he was experiencing wild homosexual sex, one would suspect his semen production would be reduced. How was the production, oh say the following week?”
“Reduced by quite a bit, about normal I’d say. I can’t believe I’m sitting here telling you all this.”
“I’m a doctor, don’t worry, it’s nothing I haven’t heard dozens of times before. Now please tell me what you did to Sam, did you hit him, kick him out of the house, turn Betty against him?”
“Certainly not. At first, I simply wouldn’t let him touch me. I thought if he was with another woman eventually I would reconcile with him – providing he didn’t see her again. I didn’t then, and don’t even now want to divorce him, I took a vow and I don’t intend to break it. Outside of providing intimacy, I have been a perfect wife, and I must say he has been a perfect provider and husband.
But when I received the detective’s report, I realized reconciliation with intimacy was impossible. I became most unpleasant and forced him out of my bedroom.”
“Two questions, - one why was intimacy impossible then?”
“Because he has AIDS of course. Don’t all homosexuals?”
“No they don’t, unfortunately a lot of them do though. Besides, there is a remote possibility he just might not have had any sexual relations while away. It is remotely possible he was telling the whole truth. But my second question is, how did you force him out of your bedroom?”
“When he didn’t take a hint, I wouldn’t let him have a good nights sleep. I can sleep with the TV on, and he can’t, I would wait until he was asleep and turn the TV on, he would wake. Soon he started to sleep in his den. I felt sorry for him on that lumpy couch, so I moved his things into the guest room, but he would have none of that for some reason, so I gave up and his things are still in my room.
After that, I just do my best to ignore his feelings, I feed him, care for his clothes and clean our house. As far as anyone knows, until today that is, we are a happily married family.”
Pete then asked a long series of pointed questions as he had Sam. Pete asked Catherine not to mention her visit here to Sam. As Catherine was leaving she turned to Pete and asked, “You think he told me the truth don’t you?”
“I don’t know Catherine, people lie to me all the time, and sometimes they don’t even realize they are doing it. When I give Sam a chemical interrogation and see the analysis of the clothing, I will have a much better idea. Tell me Catherine, is Sam usually truthful?”
“To a fault, it would have been so easy to simple tell me the airline delivered the luggage, why didn’t he?”
“I don’t know, maybe because he was tired of dressing behind your back, it was apparently important to him. Try to get some rest this afternoon; this has been very difficult for you, would you like a little pill to relax?”
“Yes, thank you, please.”
An hour later Ben returned with the suitcase, “Well Pete, what do you think.”
“I really can’t tell you, but if I’m lucky you may have done your friend a big favor. Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure what is it?”
“Get Sam here about eight thirty tomorrow morning, we will be most of the day.”
“Hey, that’s our golf day!”
“Not this week, but rest easy, I will send you the bill.”
“Ok, you help Sam and I’ll double it. I’ll get Sam here on time.”
Pete performed a chemical interrogation on Sam, and hypnotized him for additional detail. Sam’s story didn’t deviate at all from his conscious testimony, but in addition, Pete had Sam relate his activities while moving about while dressed, as Pete suspected no sex was involved. Then he called Ben and asked that he bring Catherine in the next morning at nine and Sam agreed to come at eight forty-five.
He spent most of the evening editing the videotape to a third machine – without destroying the original tapes.
Catherine looked to Pete as if she had been crying; she was very surprised to see Sam in Pete’s office too. Sam was very, very surprised to see her walk in.
Pete had them sit in two side-by-side easy chairs, while he sat behind his desk facing them. There was a large screen Sony TV visible on the sidewall, where all could see it clearly, Pete held a remote.
He started, “I asked Ben to bring you here Catherine, so that we could all meet together. Normally in cases like this, I play a videotape of each party’s statements. I use video, as people will usually watch it without becoming too argumentative. In this way I at least get each party to listen to the other side’s story, and negotiate from there. In this case you agree on almost all of what happened while you were both together, so the video is not all that important for that purpose. However, it is important for Catherine to understand the basis for my belief that Sam is very likely to take his own life, exactly what Sam did on his business trips, and for both of you that reconciliation just might be possible. With that in mind, do you both agree to see the video together?”
Both Sam and Catherine looked confused, but each said yes.
“Ok, first segment is an excerpt from the answers Sam gave under the influence of sodium pentothal. The questions are a bit out of a logical sequence to prevent and detect attempts to fool me. It is possible Sam could have been trained to provide false information under this type of questioning, however, I don’t believe Sam has had that training.”
The TV crackled to life, and a very pale vacuous looking Sam appeared on the screen, Pete’s voice could be heard but the video remained squarely on Sam.
“Sam, do you know why you dress as a female while away from home?”
“I guess it’s because I’m lonely.” Sam replied in a monotone, almost detached voice.
“Why not go down to the lounge and have a few drinks with the other guests?”
“I don’t like bars, too smoky, and I don’t enjoy drinking.”
“What do you like about dressing in female attire?”
“I feel comfortable in it, I always have.”
“Any other reasons?”
“I feel I am close to Sharon and Catherine, I don’t understand it, but I do, I feel I am.”
“Do you remember the years since Catherine found your things?”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel today?”
“Lonely and hurting.”
“Did you dress today?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I promised Catherine I wouldn’t.”
“Since Catherine found your things, how have you felt?”
“Isolated and lonely, like I’ve lost the best part of me – like when Sharon died.”
“Did you try to kill yourself back then too?”
“No, but back then Catherine’s love saw me through that.”
“Have you dressed any time since Catherine found your things?”
“No”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Of course, I want to so bad I can taste it.”
“Have you ever has sex of any kind with a man?”
“No.”
“Have you ever kissed a man?”
“Yes, my father, and my uncles.
“Were those kisses erotic, designed to be sexually arousing?”
“They were not sexual in any sense of the word.”
“Did you ever kiss your father while dressed?”
“Yes, it was wonderful, I almost never kissed him as Sam. Sharon and Samantha loved to cuddle with mommy and daddy.”
“Who are Sharon and Samantha?”
“Sharon is my twin sister, she is dead now. Samantha is my female alter ego – I am Samantha.”
“Did you dress for sexual gratification?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Have you ever had sex with a woman as Samantha?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Yes”
“Have you ever had sex with a woman as Sam?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Catherine.”
“Just Catherine?”
“Yes.”
“Why only her?”
“She is my wife, I promised to be faithful to her.”
“No one else?”
“No one.”
“Are you going to kill yourself?”
“Yes”
“Why didn’t you kill yourself this morning?”
“The sale of my share of the company to Ben isn’t completed yet.”
“Why is that important?”
“It will provide security to Betty and Catherine when I’m gone.”
“Why is that important?”
“They won’t be able to collect any of my life insurance after I kill myself.”
“But why is that important to you?”
“I love them.”
The TV went blank and Pete stopped it. Tears were visible in Catherine’s eyes, though she was fighting them. Sam looked sad.
Pete observed, “That was just a excerpt from over an hour of raw footage, I have a copy of the entire interrogation for you here.” He pointed to a VHS videotape cassette. Continuing, “The next segment is from my attempt to hypnotize Sam, I started while his mind was still relaxed by the drug.” Pete described in some detail the process, mainly to allow time for Catherine to calm down. He concluded, “Based on my past experience I believe the hypnosis succeeded, and what you hear is Sam’s accurate recollection of the actual events.”
The TV flashed back to life, this time Sam was sitting with his eyes closed, and if not for his semi-erect posture one would think him asleep. Pete’s voice could be heard, and rather then the sharp crisp questions from the chemical interrogation his voice was calm and soothing.
“Sam I want you to go back to the day you returned home and found Catherine holding your dress, go to the minute you walked into the basement laundry room an and first saw Catherine. Tell me what you see and hear, you will be there on the count of three, one… two… three.”
Sam’s whole expression and body language changed; first, he looked terrified, and then resigned. He spoke, “I hear Catherine crying, she is crying in a way I haven’t seen since the day she found out she was sterile. My own stomach knots, I run to her to comfort her, but she pushes me away telling me never to touch her again…”
Sam recites in detail the whole scene and Pete pauses the tape and asks, “Catherine is that how you remember that event?”
Catherine looks as if she will cry, but she makes an effort and composes herself, “It is exactly as I remember it, I had been crying for some time when Sam came in, when he touched me I reacted just as he said. I don’t remember everything he said with such clarity, but from what I remember that was how it happened. Why didn’t you lie to me Sam, at least until I calmed down?”
“Catherine, I never lie to you, besides I though you would sense that I was, and that would only make things worse.”
They talked a little more then Pete asked, “Are you two prepared to see the next segment?” Both nodded affirmatively, and the TV flicked into motion.
Pete’s voice said, “You are back in the quiet place now, you feel calm and relaxed.
Like magic, Sam’s face went from anguish to peaceful composure and his eyes closed.
“Now Sam,” Pete’s voice continued, “I want you to travel back to your hotel on the trip immediately preceding Catherine’s discovery. Specifically I want you to describe the first time on that trip you dressed and subsequently went out, tell me what you were feeling, what you were seeing and what others said to you. Be concise, but hit the all the high points. You are there on the count of three, one… two… three.”
Sam’s face became alive, “It’s my second day in the hotel, and its about four in the afternoon, I am entering my hotel room and can’t wait to get dressed. I first take a long hot shower, I wish I could shave all over but then Catherine would know for sure, corky is behaving himself, so it is easy to tuck after I dry off and powder. I put on my undies, silicon liquid breast forms to fill out my breasts, and tights; they are not sheer but cover up my leg hair nicely.
I put on my heels and slip, I love the feeling of the slip and heels, after hours, heels hurt a bit, but at first, it’s a heavenly feeling. I remember the first time Sharon and I wore high heels, mother knew it was a special memory so she bought both Sharon and I matching outfits and watched us dress, then she handed us the heels she had hidden in a bag, they were less than two inches, but it was very special to Sharon and I.
Now I’m putting on perfume, its Wind Song, Catherine’s favorite, I feel she is in the room with me. Then I apply make up, I remember the times mother taught Sharon and I to use it, then I arrange my hair, I wish it were longer or easier to style, but it looks ok. Then I put earrings and jewelry on, I love the feeling, my right ear hole is almost closed up, but I manage to push in the stud. I look in the mirror and Samantha smiles back, she isn’t very curvy, but looks passable as a tall rather horsy looking girl. Sharon, mom, and dad loved her, and I’m pleased she is back.
Now that I’m all dressed, I open my PC and work for three hours. I’m hungry and decide to take a cab to a restaurant Kyle has told me was excellent. It’s warm out so I only take my raincoat less the lining, I freshen my makeup, pee and leave the room.
Downstairs I enter a cab for the Outback Steakhouse, once there I wait in the lobby for a table; the room is filled with mostly businessmen and families, but fortunately I am just ugly enough not to attract much male attention. What little I do attract is easily, politely but firmly, turned away.”
Sam went on to describe the dinner, leaving the restaurant, and returning to the hotel, only to work for two more hours, shower and go to bed in a nightie.
Pete intoned, “Now Sam you are in the quiet place.” Again, Sam’s eyes closed and he relaxed. “Please reflect on the things you would do dressed while away on business trips, please describe the things you do, you will start on the count of three, one… two… three.”
“Most of the time I work at my computer. I go out for dinner, many times I go to a mall and widow shop, maybe pick up a pair of tights or a new dress. I try on a lot of dresses, but buy very few, I have no room to keep more than two, and must discard one when I leave to go home. It’s easy to imagine Catherine is shopping with me, I can smell her wherever I go. Sometimes I go to a movie, I sit close to the screen and immerse myself, and it’s easy to imagine both Sharon and Catherine are with me in the darkened theater. That’s about all, I have tried sporting events and concerts, but it is too easy to be groped in a crowd, and I fear discovery – even though I think corky feels a little like a pussy to a casual touch when he’s tucked between my legs.”
Sam went on for a few minutes and Pete interrupted, “Sam I want you to return to the quiet place.” Pete stopped the tape again.
Pete looked at Sam and Catherine, and judging by their thoughtful faces, his plan was working, now for the last element.
“The next segment is relatively short, I usually compile the recollections of events and complaints of each party, and play them back to back, and then seek to come to agreement of the facts and their true emotional impact.”
Pete turned the tape back on and the screen came back to life. He had edited the tape such that his question was followed by a short answer from Sam and then Catherine. It only took ten minutes or so until they reached the issue of Sam’s suicide.
“This is the first real point of disagreement, Catherine you don’t believe Sam will do it, but Sam says he will. Catherine, after viewing the previous tape, do you wish to change your assessment of Sam’s intentions?”
Catherine burst into tears for several minutes, when Sam moved to comfort her Pete motioned him away, finally she choked out, “My god what have I done?”
Pete asked, “Then you agree with Sam’s stated intention?”
Catherine replied between sobs, “Yes.”
Pete stated, “I concur, Sam will kill himself as soon as his arrangements with Ben are finished. I believe this because Sam is a very truthful person and he tells me he will. Second, under chemical interrogation, he affirms he will. And third, under hypnosis, he affirms his intention. Now if you are ready lets continue.”
Pete spoke as if this was all perfectly natural and restarted the tape. Several trivial issues followed with both Sam and Catherine agreeing on the answers, Pete had planned it that way to allow their emotions to quiet.
Then the question or reconciliation was reached.
Pete mater-of-factly stated, “Sam was always open to reconciliation, but expressed frustration with Catherine’s refusal to talk to him about issues concerning their estrangement. Catherine’s answers indicated willingness to reconcile early on, when she thought there was another woman involved, but complete rejection once she thought there was a homosexual relationship – and the significant probability Sam had contracted AIDS.”
Sam looked very thoughtful, just then Marsha interrupted them saying, “Dr. Wilson, these just came, and you asked me to bring them to you as soon as they both arrived.” Actually, Pete had given her a pre-arranged signal through the remote.
“Thank you Marsha.” Pete opened the envelopes and read looking serious as a heart attack, but then his face broke out in a grin. “Catherine, this is the lab report on the clothing you gave me, there are no detectable semen stains on any of the garments, Sam didn’t you masturbate while dressed?”
Sam actually turned red, and Catherine couldn’t help smiling. “Er no, I did a few times when I first went through puberty, but as I always felt close to Sharon when dressed and I didn’t want her to see me doing that. When I would go on trips, I wanted to save myself for Catherine, besides my hand is no substitute for her love.”
Pete opened the second envelope, and smiled again. “You guys will be pleased to note Sam does not have AIDS or any of a dozen diseases commonly associated with sexual activity. In fact, he is very healthy, physically at least.”
“Thank god,” Catherine intoned, “I was really concerned, but it’s not surprising, I believe he has only had sex with me. I’m so sorry Sam, but I’ll try to make it up to you if you will let me.”
Pete knew when to quit, he turned off the TV saying, “You two shoo now, out of here. Do you want this tape?”
Sam looked at Catherine and she shook her head, Sam said, “No thanks Pete… words can’t thank you enough.”
But Catherine planted a big kiss on Pete’s forehead, leaving lipstick mark and the tape.
Pete just smiled thinking of Ben’s promise of double payment, and then he realized a good outcome was rare enough to be reward enough. Naa, he corrected that thinking, quickly, before it took root.
That night Sam was happily back in his own bed, the bad memories of the two past years seemed to be fading quickly. Catherine thought she would have difficulty sleeping without the TV, and surprisingly Sam had difficulty making love, corky wouldn’t work.
At first, they weren’t too concerned, just happy to be together, but after a week of the problem.
“What’s the matter Honey?” Catherine asked with concern in her voice.
“I don’t know, I haven’t been getting sustainable erections since about a year after our fight.”
“Why didn’t you mention it to Pete while we were there?”
“I didn’t think about it, I was far too upset about other things, and then the other day when you realized I was still important to you – well that was all that mattered to me.”
“I’ve been so selfish, I just don’t know what possessed me – well whatever is the matter, we will fix it together, I won’t make the same mistake twice.” Catherine promised.
Even though he was upset, Sam had played racquet ball with Ben earlier and was physically tired falling asleep during a episode of ‘Mystery.’
Catherine lay there next to him and her hand unconsciously moved to stroke his privates, as she thought of them. She had never kissed them before, but she was feeling very loving and nurturing toward Sam, she moved down, and began kissing them. Soon he began to respond, and she continued her loving and began to suck him into her mouth. This went on a long time; Sam was hard now, but still fast asleep. The TV timed out, but she still held him in her mouth, falling into a half awake, half asleep state. Soon after he reached the first REM state, he twitched and she bit down slightly. Sam woke then and realized Catherine had corky in her mouth, and that he was hard, he reached down and stroked Catherine’s head and said, “That feels very nice.”
With that encouragement Catherine became fully awake and continued, she had never done this before considering it depraved, but soon Sam was very hard. He gently pushed her head away and mounted her, missionary style as always, and they made love for the first time in two years
Catherine still had trouble sleeping without the TV, but often vigorous love making tired Sam and he fell asleep, she applied the timer to the TV, enjoyed her post lovemaking glow, snuggled to Sam, and went to sleep herself. The TV was off before he reached a REM state and woke him up.
Both Sam and Catherine felt guilt, Catherine more so than Sam, but each time they felt it build up they discussed it. Both had been back to Pete separately, and twice together. He helped them work out their feelings, and most importantly express them to the other.
The subject of Sam’s dressing came up frequently, but he resisted the temptation. However, largely based on comments Pete made, curiosity got the better of her, and she had to meet Samantha.
One Saturday morning she asked Sam, “Will you go shopping with me dear.” He made a little grimace, but before he begged off she added, “As Samantha of course.”
His face lit up, but then he said, “I have nothing to wear, and your things won’t fit me.”
“Not a problem, I had your things cleaned after Pete gave them back to me and they’re in my closet. Come lets take a shower, I have lots of Nair, and you can do it all right.”
Sam let Catherine apply Nair all over his body; he applied it to her legs and the waited for it to work. It burned a little, but Sam was so pleased Catherine accepted his quirk that he didn’t mind, even welcomed the feeling. After their shower, they applied lotion to each other, and promptly got sidetracked for a little lovemaking. They found the contact between their hairless legs and arms was very erotic and made love twice, in quick secession, something they never did.
When Catherine put on her panties, she wore a panty liner to be on the safe side. After all, there was a lot of Sam in her, and the thought of that pleased her. Catherine was amazed that his testicles could disappear into his body and that his corky drawn between his legs and held by a thong could make his front thoroughly feminine. In a flash of inspiration, she placed a panty liner on him and pulled his thong back up, she felt and certified him ‘grope-ably-undetectable’ with an enormous grin. As she dressed, she noted Sam donned his female clothes effortlessly; soon he was in a slip, hose, and heels.
He applied his makeup almost as quickly as she did, with only a little friendly tussling to first use of the makeup table, they decided to purchase another one at the earliest opportunity. His hair was difficult, it was long enough, but hadn't been styled professionally. Between them, they did something with it, but resolved to have it styled, and Catherine made an appointment for both of them at three.
They discussed what dresses to wear; she had a navy ‘A’ frame that was similar to his robins egg blue dress, so they settled on those. Once dressed, all his male mannerisms seemed to leave him to be replaced with those of a contemporary female. Even his voice seemed to change; it was pitched on the low side for a woman, but was believable, especially when he spoke relatively softly.
His ears had closed but Catherine loaned Samantha a clip on jewelry set including necklace, bracelets, ankle bracelet, rings – all with man made diamonds and emeralds. Sam recognized it as a gift he had given to her, piece by piece over years when they were first married and poor. They talked about the happy memories associated with the set as it gradually filled out. It made them feel very close as they reminisced, and that was something they would ordinarily never reminisce about.
Sam let Catherine drive as his license was in his male persona, and there was no reason to take a chance. He had an Arkansas license as Samantha, but it had expired last year and he hadn’t renewed it. He made a note to do so; he had a client there and a post office box and would arrange to visit the client. In a flash of inspiration, even better, he would take a vacation with Catherine and see the country – she almost never traveled with him.
For her part Catherine was very happy, she liked to shop, but since Ben and Sandra broke up, her relations with Sandra were strained, and she hadn’t bothered to do things with her other friends. For the first time she realized that not only had Sam been depressed the past two years, but she had been too. She smiled to herself as she realized Samantha was changing that too. She resolved to call her friends and begin to socialize normally again, at least while Sam was working.
Shopping with Samantha was a revelation, she had no idea Sam had absorbed so much intimate detail about her likes and dislikes, nor did she realize he had a keen sense of what looked great on her, and what was blah. They discussed everything, and tried on just everything; in the end, they purchased two dresses each, and one they planned to wear tonight when they went out for an elegant dinner and dancing.
Once the dresses were chosen, they shopped for appropriate lingerie. Catherine thought a merry widow would give Samantha a few more curves, so they each bought one. They also picked up some really sheer and silky stockings as well as stockings for normal use. Samantha changed, in the store’s dressing room, into a garter belt and stockings to replace the much heavier tights that she had been wearing to hide previously hairy legs. The sheer hose felt great, and the garter belt gave a free and open feeling – that was well – it felt dangerous. Catherine also changed from the panty hose she usually wore, to stockings with a garter belt too, and they shared their feelings as they walked around in new heels.
Samantha had her ears re-pierced and Catherine picked out real emerald and diamond studs to match.
They arrived early for their hair appointment and decided to do their nails with tips, so that the transition back to Sam would be easy, they elected pedicures too. That settled they looked through magazines for a hairstyle for Samantha. They chose a layered look with soft curls, without the curls it would comb into a masculine cut. Sam always wore his hair on the long side, it fit his image as a scientific wunderkind, and if Samantha were to appear the next day, she would curl her hair the night before.
The salon had a cosmetologist from Lancôme visiting so they each had a makeover, making the helpful girl’s day with several hundred dollars in purchases. Catherine looked great, but Samantha thought it was only a relatively small difference from her usual look. However, even with minimal eye brow-shaping Samantha looked much better, almost pretty given her great clear eyes. They had their manicurist match their nails to a shade harmonious with their new makeover.
They were ecstatic over how much fun they had together and talked about it continuously on the way home, once in their bedroom they kissed. Samantha mentioned seductively, “You know that I’ve never done ‘it’ with another woman.”
Catherine said shyly, “Well I certainly haven’t, whatever do they do?”
“I picked up a Forum while you were looking for notepaper, it’s a issue on lesbian love.”
“Samantha, that’s depraved.” Catherine poked Samantha in the ribs.
“Yes, isn’t it – lets see what they do.”
They sat on the bed and looked at the pictures together, Samantha was able to read the whole article, while Catherine commented on the pictures.
“I think I have the gist of it, we are very fortunate to have a built in dildo.”
“You evil minded girl, what’s first?” Catherine said as she returned Samantha’s kiss.
They kissed each other gently and helped remove each other’s dresses, and then they began petting one another. It wasn’t very much different than their usual petting, except Samantha made an effort to keep her touches feather light and of course they both looked like girls. Catherine removed Samantha’s padding and played with her breasts through the slip and bra, just as Samantha was doing for her.
They lay on the bed together and reveled in the new sensations, legs intertwined with hose, arms, and hands gently caressing, then for the first time Samantha went down on Catherine. Samantha remembered in detail the article she had just read – and Catherine was transported to heaven. For almost an hour, Samantha focused all her senses on Catherine's pleasure. For the first time with her mouth and tongue brought Catherine to at least six orgasms, the last so mind blowing Samantha thought Catherine would suffocate her, so hard was she pressing her into her need.
Catherine lay panting as Samantha crawled next to her nibbling on her neck, ear, earring and tonguing her ear canal. As Samantha tweaked her breast, Catherine shuddered to another small orgasm. Catherine then made the trip down and starting at Samantha’s silk encased painted toes, and licked and sucked her way up, finally releasing Samantha’s raging dildo. Taking a page from her lover’s book, she focused on Samantha’s pleasure, and it was a glorious torture until she couldn’t resist mounting it. She had never done so on top, but Samantha’s unfettered access to her breasts was most satisfying. Her lover was so hard, it was several minutes of delightful torture before it was possible for him to find release, and they climaxed together.
Some time later she dismounted from the now deflated dildo, kissed it and started to fully undress, a few minutes later Samantha joined her in the shower. There was no getting around it, their professionally applied makeup would have to be removed, but they wore caps to protect their hair.
While they showered Samantha said, “I called Armand’s Bistro and ordered dinner in, it should be here in an hour.”
“Good, great new dress or not, I really don’t have the strength to dress and go out.”
After they dried off, they practiced the new makeup with the benefit of the instant photo’s the Lancôme lady provided. Samantha was done when the dinner was delivered, so in a new negligee and slippers she accepted the delivery. She fully set the candle lit table with the meal, and was waiting when Catherine walked into the dining room.
“I didn’t know you could do this, who showed you how to set a table?”
“You did silly, Sam loves dining with you, it’s always so elegant.”
“I didn’t realize he noticed.”
“He always tells you how nice it is. Doesn’t he?”
“Yes, but I didn’t realize he really noticed, I mean all the details.”
“Catherine I love you, I pay attention to what you do, and you are appreciated.”
Catherine kissed him and they sat down to enjoy a superb dinner. Samantha brought up the idea of a trip together over the steak au poivre, new potatoes and green beans, they eagerly made plans, and the meal passed – finally as they dipped their chocolate covered strawberries in zabaglione Catherine asked,
“Do you think Samantha will stay with us tomorrow?”
“If you want, I never had a more perfect day than today.”
“Nor I, I’ll set your hair before bed.”