Aunt Karen and Her Niece Andy

Kresha Matay



My name was Andy
now it's Amy. This is my story.

When I was twelve, I became fascinated by women and their clothes. I still don't know what caused my fascination. I do know that my interest increased with each passing day. Maybe it was puberty, or an imbalance of hormones or as I've recently come to believe, I was a person born genetically different. All I'm really sure of is ... I'm glad it happened.

The initial stages of my quest for feminine knowledge took the form of comparing women when they weren't conscious of my appraisal. I scrutinized the manner in which women dressed, how they walked, how they talked, how they motioned and how they carried themselves. I spent every possible moment of my free-time secretly scanning department store catalogs and my Aunt Karen's women's magazines, paying particular attention to the clothing, the shoes and the lingerie. I committed to memory all the various types and styles of feminine apparel. I studied any advertisement describing the benefits of the materials from which women's garments were manufactured. In an effort to fully understand how these fabrics "moved" when worn, I studied women and young girls. Naturally I took great pleasure in sneaking peeks up a woman's dress when an unguarded moment offered itself. Initially I peeked up their skirts in order to see their hose and lingerie, since I was then too young to be influenced by sexual curiosity. Most of the time, the woman never even noticed, but when a woman did catch me in the act, she usually dismissed it as the normal actions of a rude but curious young boy, or possibly she may have considered my interest a compliment.

Let me tell the reader about myself. I am an only child, living with my divorced Aunt. My parents had been killed in a automobile crash when I was very young. We lived in the secluded countryside just outside Columbus, Ohio. having no nearby neighbors my own age, I enjoyed an abundance of leisure time to amuse myself. I wasn't good at sports and didn't have a muscular physic. In fact, I was thinner than the other boys my age. I enjoyed reading, music and play acting. My Aunt encouraged me in my pursuits and even joined me in many of them.

Aunt Karen was a sexy young woman, had a great figure and liked to wear stylish clothes. Her hair was jet black and fell to her shoulders in cascades of soft curls. Her facial features had the classic proud look of a "Maureen O'Hara". Her breasts were large, firm, round and drew the attention of both men and women. She was tall, with long sexy legs, narrow ankles and shapely calves. While her real age was mid-thirties, she easily passed for a lot less. She was constantly being asked for dates, but refused all requests. Auntie had been badly hurt by her ex-husband's infidelity, the embarrassment. the pain of the divorce and currently wanted nothing to do with any man. This is not to say she "liked" women, she just didn't want to be hurt again! You might think this male hating attitude would've affected our relationship. It didn't! She looked upon me as her own child, not as another male who could hurt her someday. As I grew up, we developed a close and special feeling for each other. I loved her and she loved me.

Aunt Karen spent her time doing all the wonderful things, around the house and garden, that a young woman of means was able, (the final settlement had been very favorable). Aunt Karen encouraged me to participate alongside her in many of her endeavors ... and I did. Since there was but the two of us, I helped with many of the household chores that would normally have been considered "woman's work". I helped her with the shopping, the cleaning, the washing, the cooking and I also learned how to iron. One of the chores that I later came to enjoy was washing clothes. It gave me the opportunity to examine my Aunt's clothing. At first, none of her most delicate lingerie showed up in the laundry. When I questioned her as to their whereabouts, she explained.

"Oh! I felt you might be a little embarrassed handling my more delicate lingerie. Most young boys are confused and embarrassed by the differences between men's and women's clothes and the materials of which they're made. In addition, some of my "things" are so dainty they must be hand washed in the bathroom sink, laid out on a towel a certain way to dry and folded differently then my other clothes. I'd rather do them myself than cause you to become embarrassed. After I assured her I wouldn't be embarrassed, she taught me how to care for her finer lingerie. She even turned it into a teasing game between us. Now I had the opportunity to compare the knowledge I had garnered from the catalogs against some of the actual items. I learned how bras could be adjusted and how they clipped in back. I learned how to wrap a garter-belt around my waist, clip it in front, and then "spin" it around till it faced front. I learned how decidedly different the textures of women's clothes were from my own clothes. I learned why girdles where made from different materials, combined together in order to stretch at certain points and to hold firmly at others. I also learned how the different types of bras performed their functions in shaping, lifting and molding a woman's breasts to enhance her appearance. Whenever Aunt Karen went clothes shopping, I made sure I was invited to go along with her. I acted boyishly embarrassed in the dress and lingerie departments, but in reality, I loved being where most "men had never gone before". It gave me the opportunity to see, up close, all the "special" sexy clothes my Aunt and other women wore. Aunt Karen would notice my "false" embarrassment and tease me by holding some sexy lingerie against herself and ask.

"How do you think it would look on me?"

I would sheepishly smile, head bowed, and offer my opinion. Often, my Aunt would have me hold a dress up against myself for her to supposedly view the length even though we both knew I wasn't as tall as she. It was just a game we played. Both of us knew she was just teasing and both of us enjoyed the game. Afterwards, she would treat me to a sundae or shake at the local "Dime Store" or soda fountain. This was her way of making up to me for the teasing. My assisting her whenever she shopped, helped to further develop the close relationship in which the two of us enjoyed being with each other more than being with anyone else. Because of this, she treated me differently than the way most young boys get treated by their female relatives. She still viewed me as a child, but offered me many opportunities to partake of adult experiences.

Whenever we watched TV, I would lie on the floor, near her chair, but at an angle, so I could secretly stare up her casually displaced skirt. Each time my ears heard the soft whisper of nylon against nylon, my eyes would strain to see up between her momentarily opened thighs, hoping to catch a flash of pink, or white, or another equally exciting shade of colored panties. I loved the sensuous sound her nylons made as she crossed or uncrossed her knees. My Aunt was never really careless in her posture, but I was able, on a few occasions, to see up her displaced skirt to that dark zone of mysterious womanhood which peaked my youthful desires. I attempted all the conventional strategies to discover my Aunt naked or semi-dressed as most young boys before me have done, to their female family members, Often, I peeked through keyholes. Sometimes, I knelt outside her bedroom window, hidden by the bushes, straining to see through the narrow gap between the shade and the window frame. Once, I crawled between our closets, they were offset and connected. There, hidden under the drape of one of her gowns, I quietly sat, inhaling the sweet scents that emanated from the materials, gently caressing the skirt portion against my hairless cheeks. I remained there, my eyes "glued" to the tiny "crack" between the doors for over two hours, but all Auntie did was straighten her dresser drawers and brush her hair, much to my disappointment. Though none of these furtive attempts really succeeded, I did enjoy the trill of the venture and would spend hours fantasizing over what little I was able to glimpse. Once or twice, I noticed a small smile sneak across her lips when an attempt failed. I wasn't sure if my Aunt realized what was going on, but prayed she wouldn't figure it out. I continued my secret voyeurism and over time was somewhat rewarded for my efforts. Every now and then, Aunt Karen would be less vigilant, thereby allowing me to see down the V of her blouse or robe as she bent to kiss me goodnight. On other occasions, I would see up her skirt, just past the welts of her hose, as I helped her out of our car. Sometimes she encountered a difficulty in getting dressed and would ask for my assistance with a stuck zipper or snap or button. These special moments, infrequent and fleeting, became the highlights of my daydreams. I combined these small incidents into full-fledged fantasies and sometimes they even appeared in my dreams.

As I grew older, these fantasies became more complex. Initially, I tried to pictured myself as "Karen". I attempted to insert my mind into her body, "feeling" how she dressed, walked and moved. I would envision her dress draped over my imagined breasts, drawn tightly across my firm derriere, as the hem swirled around my nylon encased knees when I walked across a room in my 3" heels. I even imagined I could "sense" as my breasts "jiggled" with each step. I pictured my smooth shaven legs encased in her sheer nylons and my arched feet in her high heels. I could visualize my maleness surrounded by her sheer panties. My recently developed sensitive balls "floating" within the delightfully cool and silky material. I did enjoy my illusions, but was always left wanting. Therefore I was compelled to create new mental images.

In these fantasies I became my Aunt's daughter instead of her nephew. It was much easier to create new adventures while still staying within my own body versus taking over my Aunt's. This was much more satisfying! Oh, how pleasant it would be to share "our" being female. We would spend our days and nights pursuing all the wonderful adventures my new identity now allowed. I would don the pretty dresses, skirts, blouses and sensuous lingerie that I yearned for, but up till now had had no opportunity to wear. Now we would share each others clothing. Now we would spend hours at the beauty shop together, having our nails manicured and our hair styled while we sat and eavesdropped on the other women's "mysterious" conversations. When we went shopping I could actually try on the dresses instead of merely having them held up against me. I envisioned us "girl talking" over lunch, while being flirted with by the waiters and the male customers. If I was her daughter, she would no longer be concerned with being as modest in my presence ... after all, we would both be females. We would walk around the house in the briefest of clothes and even naked, if that's how we felt. We would hug and cuddle each other whenever one of us felt "low", or just because we "needed" a hug. We would spend hours, in the evenings, dressed in our finest peignoirs, our legs tucked up under the flowing drape of our gowns, discussing anything and everything of interest to two females. My Aunt would tell me stories of her girlhood, her fist date, her first kiss, and how "it" had felt the first time. I would now be privy to all her feminine secretes that as a male I could never know. I can't explain in words how b the craving to become my Aunt's daughter became in my daily life. I woke up each morning with that thought and went to sleep with it still on my mind. Naturally, this constant desire led me to my first adolescent attempt at crossdressing. I wanted to "see" what I looked like dressed as a girl and how feminine clothing would actually feel against my skin.

When Aunt Karen was out, I would go up to our attic, where I had discovered my Grand- mother's old steamer trunk and play dress up. The clothes, in the large trunk, were mostly old style dresses and gown's, some costume jewelry and a few hats with veils. The dress hems unfortunately fell well past my knees(having been the style at the time), but the hats were wonderful. They disguised my short haircut and the old style veils lent a sense of mystery to the face hidden behind them. These old clothes allowed me to enter another world ... the world of my fantasies. Also packed away, in a large cardboard box sitting next to Grandma's trunk, was a white crinoline half-slip. It didn't fit under any of the dresses, so when I wore it, I didn't bother with a dress. The real treasure was buried under the slip ... a three quarter length, black, body girdle (unfortunately without garters). I fit into it quite easily (the knowledge garnered from studying catalogs). I loved how it shaped, proportioned and constricted my torso, aiding the feminine illusion I was creating.

This furtive cross dressing went on for almost five years. During that time, I would sneak up to the attic every chance I was alone in the house. At times I was able to "steal" a pair of panties, a bra and/or nylons (Aunt Karen never wore pantyhose) from the laundry hamper. I learned to push my balls aside, fold back my dick, squeeze my thighs together and slither the delicate material up my legs and around my buns. This gave me the "look" of the feminine V where my legs joined my abdomen. I would gently tease and squeeze my smooth, panty covered buns as I "dreamed" of girlhood. Later, I would slip on Grand- ma's dress, using my balled up socks, to give the illusion of feminine breasts. This was a poor substitute for real tits, but was the best I could manage. When I tried putting on the hose, they always fell down to my ankles (I had no garters). Disappointed, I would slip my hands inside them and gently rub them across my face, neck and legs. Later, I would lift the hem of my dress, move my panties aside, and stroke my penis, all the while fantasizing about my Aunt and my being female. Sometimes, I would "prance" from one end of the attic to the other, reveling in the feel of the clothes and the fantasy of not only being a girl, but Karen's daughter. I would sit on a chair, cross my thighs in a most proper manner and view myself in an old, dusty mirror I had properly positioned for just that purpose. I would slowly raise the hem above my knees and part my slender thighs so I could see the small band of colored nylon covering my "pussy". Once, I even borrowed my Aunt's Polaroid camera and took photos of my feminized reflection.

Acting the parts of both characters, I created conversations between myself and Aunt Karen. This helped me develop a distinctly feminine voice pitched slightly higher, yet softer than my own. These glorious moments, lost in my transgendered fantasy world, made my desire to crossdress stronger with each passing day. Later, I would return the borrowed "pretties" to the hamper and assume my Aunt never noticed the few times I left a stain. Many a night, alone in my bedroom, I used the pictures to relive the experiences, masturbating myself to sleep.

I was discovered one Saturday morning, just after my eighteenth birthday, when I thought Karen (by this age I called her by name), was out grocery shopping. I hurried to her hamper, picked out a pair of powder blue, nylon panties and rushed up the attic stairs. Moving quickly to Grandma's trunk, I opened it and selected my favorite evening-gown. Stripping off my hated male clothing, I smoothly stepped into the diaphanous panties until they slipped tightly around my tush as my penis strained against the delicate, smooth nylon. I choose that moment to look into the old mirror and seemed to see Aunt Karen's sensuous body reflected back at me. The image had round, feminine hips, long tapered legs, a flat stomach and was crowned by her large firm breasts. This was the most powerful vision my over-active imagination had ever produced. I slowly ran my fingertips up, down and across my ribcage finally stopping when they reached my now pouting nipples. I teased and twisted each nipple, flicking the aroused flesh until they ached with desire. My mind raced, "If my small nipples could feel this wonderful, how much more sensuous would they be if they were for real." Lost to all caution, by the fire burning inside my loins, I grabbed Grandma's gown and slid it over my feverishly aroused body. Grasping a pair of my Aunt's old flats that I had previously "stolen" from a bag of clothes to be discarded, I "pranced" and "swished" across the uneven attic floor, swinging my legs out and up as if dancing like Ginger Rogers. Lost in my fantasy world, I closed my eyes and brought back the image in the mirror. Spinning slowly to the imagined music, I "dreamed" how gracefully I danced with my hem floating away from my silken legs for all to see. I was beautiful and sensuous and graceful and ... female! I had just "swished" to the far end of the attic, when I heard a noise. I turned and there she stood. It took me but a moment to realize that this wasn't my imagination playing tricks on me ... she was really there. My greatest fear was realized! My Aunt had discovered me! My face fell, my lips quivering as I tried to offer an explanation as to why I was standing there dressed in feminine attire. After a moment, I realized I couldn't think of a single excuse that would explain the situation and gave up, hanging my head in shame. As I stated earlier, Aunt Karen and I were close. To my absolute surprise, she didn't scream, nor order me out of the house, nor threaten to call the police. She walked over to me, raised my chin and said.

"My, don't you look lovely and sweet, and such a graceful dancer! A young girl as lovely and sweet as you shouldn't hide her charms in a dusty attic where no one can see you. Why don't you come downstairs with me. We can sit in the kitchen, two females sharing a cup of tea and I can find out all about you. If your going to be a regular member of this family I need to know thing's about you so I can to make your stay with me as pleasant as possible. Would the pretty girl like to join me in some pleasant "girl-talk?"

Oh, what a wonderful Aunt I had! She didn't have a problem with my wearing women's clothing. On the contrary, she thought it was "cute". She loved me so much she was willing to accept my dressing in feminine attire! When Aunt Karen inquired how long I had been "dressing up", she was quite surprised by my response. Then, with a twinkle in her eye, she asked me to again "parade" the length of the attic. After I did as directed Auntie told me again, how "sweet" I looked. Placing her arm around my shoulders, she stated.

"It's all right Andy, I understand. You're only a young boy and most young boys have been known to do very strange things to overcome the sexual urges that come with adolescence. Your growing up, have these desires, are extremely curious about women and the differences between the genders. I'm sure you've fantasized how women's clothes feel and fit against their bodies. This probably led to your wearing my mother's old dresses. Don't worry, I'll keep your secret and if at times you feel the need to wear Grandma's dresses, you go right ahead and wear them. Instead of dressing up in this dirty attic, why don't you use your bedroom. That way you can use the entire house to "play" in my mother's clothes and I can see how "cute" you look! If you need some help, or advice, come and ask me. I'll be happy to help in any way I can."

Since I now had my Aunt's tacit approval to crossdress, I took a bold step and asked if she would give me some of her old clothes so I could look more modern. I also asked if she would give me some of her lingerie and maybe even a pair of high heels, because women's clothes didn't look right over boys underwear and shoes. She paused for but a moment, then agreed to my request, but only if I didn't tell anyone and if I would show her how I looked in them. I immediately agreed to her conditions. Since I no longer needed my grandmother's dress, Aunt Karen had me take it off, which left me standing in her powder blue panties. A winsome smile crossed her lips as she said.

"It looks like you've already borrowed some of my undies! Turn around slowly so I can see how they look on you."

Since I had been scared out of my hard on, the panties showed just a slight bulge where she expected to see one. I slowly turned, posing for her inspection and received two loving pats and a firm squeeze on my derriere. Then she grasped my hand and led me downstairs to her bedroom instead of the kitchen. On the way, she commented on how nicely my buns looked and moved with-in her panties. This brought a smile and a giggle from both our lips. When I entered her ultra-feminine bedroom, I became excited by the sweet perfume of her room and the idea of wearing her clothes, with her approval. It was just too much for me to contain.

"Just stand next to the bed while I look through my drawers and see what I have that you may keep. I'm sure I can find some 'nice things' that aren't too good for playing dress up."

My Aunt still thought I wanted her clothes just for play acting! Rather than upset her and lose her approval, I went along with her false impression. There would be time, after I determined how positively she would accept my crossdressing, to tell her what I truly wanted ... to be her daughter, not her nephew. Karen began by pulling out some bras and panties from one of her dresser drawers. She selected a white bra and a pair of yellow panties with the word Tuesday written on them. Next, she picked a black, lacy bra and panty set. Some nylons and a black, frayed garterbelt were selected from another drawer. These were added to the pile that was forming on her bed. I was getting more turned on and it was starting to show. She was so interested in what she was doing that she still hadn't noticed my growing erection. From another drawer she unfolded a white, full slip with pretty lace at the hem and bodice. Then she went to the closet and came back with two dresses. One was a powder blue shirtwaist that buttoned up the front with a turned up Mandarin style collar and the other, a black, ultra sheer, backless chiffon gown, which I had seen her wear out to dinner many times. Karen asked?

"Andy, do you know how to put all this on or would you like some help?"

I decided that even though I knew how to get dressed in her clothes it might be better to go forward slowly until I was sure of her acceptance. I also felt her help would speed up her acceptance, so I asked if she would advise me. As I stripped her undies off, I caught her look of surprise as my semi-erect penis jumped out of their nylon restrainer. When I slipped the black Bikini panties on, they felt so cool and smooth against my skin it caused my dick to grow larger, the tip now protruding above the elastic waistband. This my Aunt couldn't help but noticed and a look of worry crossed her brow.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea." she thoughtfully commented.

Before she could say anything else, I pleaded.

"But you promised to help me! Besides, who wouldn't be excited, standing in front of their pretty Aunt, wearing her sexy underwear. Who will ever know but you and I, so who can it harm."

She paused, considered my argument and then agreed to continue.

Next came the bra. I tried to clip it myself, but acted as if I needed her help, which she gave. She stuffed some old nylons in the cups and adjusted the straps for a better fit. Then the slip, which again needed my Aunt's help to adjust the straps. I pretended to be all "fingers". Then the blue dress and there I stood dressed in Karen's clothes. I joyously twirled around, my skirt floating away from my knees and ran to the hall mirror, stopped and stared at the reflected image. I guess I had expected to look like a young Karen and since I didn't, my whole world fell apart. A large frown appeared on my face as I stared at the frumpy image reflected back at me. I slowly walked back into her room with a dejected look on my face. Aunt Karen immediately wanted to know what was wrong.

I told her that while I liked her clothes and appreciated her help, I didn't feel like a girl and definitely wasn't at all excited like I had been in Grandma's clothes. I explained that when I dressed in Grandma's clothes, I fantasized I was Karen ... my gorgeous Aunt. I looked as beautiful as she did, with her sexy body, pretty hair, makeup, jewelry, nylons and high heels. Now that I was actually wearing her clothes, I naturally had expected to really look like her. As I didn't, reality was a crushing disappointment. Motioning me over to the bed she sat down next to me. Before she could console me, a wave of despair struck and I began to cry. Aunt Karen put her arm around my shoulders and with her other hand lifted my chin, softly kissed my cheek and asked.

"Andy, what is it that you really want from me? You can't just want to play dress up in feminine clothing. If that's all you wanted, it wouldn't disturb you this much. You want something more ... what is it? Tell me, I promise I'll help, if I can."

I stopped my crying, wiped my eyes, looked into hers and said.

"What I really want is to be like you! I want to dress up like you, not only when I'm acting, but all the time! I know I can't be you, so I want to be your daughter ... not your nephew! Aunt Karen, I don't like being a boy. I actually hate being a boy! I don't want to grow up to be a man, I want to be a woman! Nothing about being male appeals to me. I don't like male clothes or the way they feel. I don't like doing the things boys are supposed to do. What I do like is the way girls' clothes look and feel. They're so sexy and pretty and the materials are so wonderful that I get dizzy just wearing them. I love the way I feel when I'm dressed as a girl. It makes me feel really special and really pretty ... and I want to feel that way all the time! But it's not just the clothes! It's about being a female. A girl's life is definitely more interesting and more exciting. There are times, when I think of what I'm missing out on by not being a girl, I get so depressed, I lie in bed and cry myself to sleep. I don't want to miss out on any more of the wonderful joys that young girls get to experience. I don't want to spend the rest of my life unhappy. If you don't help me become your daughter, I don't know what I'll do!"

Seeing the stunned look on my Aunt's face, I paused a moment to catch my breath and then I continued.

"Oh! Aunt Karen, I so badly want to be a girl! Their bodies are so smooth and soft and every curve on a girl is sexy. They get to wear jewelry, shave the ugly hair from their legs and wear nail polish to make their hands and feet pretty. I can't help feeling I'm in the wrong body. I want to do all the things I see girls doing with their mothers and their girlfriends. I want to do those things too! I want to go shopping with you in women's stores and actually try on and buy the pretty clothes I see in the windows. I want to smell good, be sexy, have long pretty hair, wear lipstick and makeup, be hugged every day and do all kinds of things with you ... but as your daughter. I don't want to hide my desires from the world for the rest of my life, instead I want to spend my life as a woman. I want to be a part of other women's conversations, I hate when they stop their discussions because I draw near. I want you and I to be mother and daughter, so you can tell me about yourself. I want to know more about you than just the superficial things everybody knows. I love you and want to be like you. All my needs can only be satisfied when I fantasize I'm a female, but fantasies and day-dreams aren't enough!"

"Andy, I love you too! I do understand how you feel. It is wonderful to be female and I do believe how badly you want to become one of us, but I don't know how you could become my daughter. You're a boy and in a few more years ,,, a man! I have to admit that there were times I wished you were my daughter instead of my nephew, but that was just selfishness on my part. I would also enjoy our sharing the kind of relationship you talked about a minute ago. It would be delightful if you were a girl, but I don't see how that's possible."

Pausing a moment, as if to get her thoughts straight, Aunt Karen continued.

"Andy, I not sure how to say this, but under the circumstances, I'm just going to say it. There have also been times that I 'felt' you should have been born female! That maybe you were born in the wrong gender. You're much more like a girl in your mind set, temperament, emotions and attitude. You also have the soft 'pretty' features of a female. Your hands and fingers are long and dainty, as are your feet. If it wasn't for your penis you probably would make a better girl than a boy."

I interrupted. "Aunt Karen, we could easily hide my penis and later on I could get "the" operation! Please help me to become your daughter! There must be a way, I don't want to be this unhappy the rest of my life!"

Aunt Karen spoke. "I'll need some time to think about it. Why don't you go to your room and let me study the situation. If you like, you may take the clothes with you and I'll call you back when I've decided what we can do ... if anything."

Aunt Karen thought long and hard. She didn't call me back for over an hour. When I heard her call, I rushed to her room, forgetting that I still wore her panties and bra. When she saw me, she smiled.

"Andy, I've reached a decision and based upon the way your still dressed I guess I've come to the right one. I believe your sincere in your need to become a woman. It probably would have been better if you had been born that way, but maybe that can be rectified. Growing up as my niece would have allowed us to be even closer. I've always wanted a daughter with whom I could share the marvelous feelings of being a woman. A daughter, who could do all the things you said you wanted to share with me ... and more. Thank god, it's not too late, or impossible. Therefore, since it's what we both want, we'll give it a try. It isn't going to be easy, but if we both work at it and you learn how to 'pass', our lives will be fuller and we'll both be happier. If it doesn't, we can always go back to the way we were."

I promised I would be the best "daughter" in the whole world and thanked her for understanding my needs. We both started crying ... tears of joy. Aunt Karen opened her arms and I ran to her. Then we hugged, kissed and cried till we both ran out of tears.

In a choked voice, she said. "I can teach you to be female, but it will take a lot of time and work and wouldn't be easy. Dressing like a woman is relatively simple, knowing how to act like one, more difficult!"

I asked when we could start.

Laughingly, my Aunt said. "Right away".

Aunt Karen decided the first thing to do, was to talk. So I threw on a robe as we moved to the den and got comfortable. We talked about everything. We even talked right through the light lunch I prepared. We talked about the functional differences between boys and girls, about the problems we might incur gender switching, about the different ways girls sit, walk, talk and motion. We talked about hair, makeup, clothes, body shaving, even nudity around the house. We talked about sex, school and other things I've since for- gotten. When we finished, we both realized how much fun we were having and how much closer we felt. We did a lot of holding hands and hugging while we talked.

We decided that in order for this gender switching to have the slightest chance of success I couldn't become her daughter, but I could become a fictitious niece visiting for the summer, while Andy, her nephew, was sent someplace like Oregon in exchange. Later, as needed, we would come up with reasons for the exchange to become permanent. There- fore I required a new name. After some debate, we agreed upon the name, Amy.

Now began the transformation. We shaved my armpits and the fuzz on my legs. Boy, that felt strange but nice and made my skin feel really smooth. We didn't have to worry about my beard or chest hair since I didn't have any. Then she pierced my ears, inserted studs and taught me how to take care of them to prevent infection.

"Now, we have to do something about those eyebrows, the fuzzy look is out!"

When she finished plucking my eyebrows, she washed my hair and put it up in rollers.

"Now let's get you under the hair dryer."

Auntie settled me at the end of the dressing table under what looked like one of those dryer hoods from a beauty shop. Once she had it blowing, she sat down across from me and placed my hands on the towel she draped across her lap. Without another word she began to work on my nails. When the extensions were finished she began to paint them a bright red. She told me to sit quietly till the polish dried and then she removed the hood from my head.

"Time to get you dressed, but first we have to do something about your figure. As of today your on a diet and will lose ten pounds. Soon you'll have a nice girlish figure, but since we can't wait that long, we'll have to use this."

She grabbed a shiny, black satin, waist-cincher and placed it around my waist. I gasped as she began to close the hooks in back. My reaction was there was no possible way I could fit into the available space after it was properly snapped shut.

"Andy, I mean Amy, you're going to have to suck it in a little, by the end of summer you won't need this. Then you'll have a twenty-four inch waist like mine. For today we'll take it easy and just pull it in half way to twenty six inches."

I sucked everything in as much as I could while she pulled, tugged and groaned. After she hooked the last eyelet, she leaned back and sighed her satisfaction. When I released my stomach muscles, the corset held them in check. It made my breathing more shallow and my voice became higher pitched. We were both amazed how much my new voice sounded more like a young girl's. A smaller, but exciting, benefit of the corset was it pushed my chest higher and made it more "full". This fullness would fit into a bra like the small budding breasts of a teen age girl. The bra was black and made of lace and Lycra. Karen filled the balance of the cups with a pair of breast forms that had belonged to Grandma after her operation. Now I learned how to clip the bra in front and slide it around.

Then she taught me how to roll some black, sheer nylons up my newly shaven legs and attach them to the garters hanging from the waist-cincher. All the previous times I had crossdressed, the one sensation I desired the most, was to wear sheer nylons. I was not disappointed, they felt wonderful! I ran my hands up and down my sleek legs enjoying their silky smoothness. I squeezed my thighs together and relished the vibrations transmitted to my dick and balls. The sensuous sounds the nylons made were equally exciting. Karen had to caution me against constantly pulling the hose tighter up my legs. She explained that the garters would do the job with the correct tension and if I wasn't careful, I would cause a run. Next came a pair of black, nylon panties with frilly lace at the waist and leg holes. (Amy couldn't believe how sexy and hot she felt where the tight panties caressed her body and the garters pulled her hose taut.) When I asked my Aunt why panties went over the garter belt straps, she laughed.

"If you put your panties on first, how do you take them down to go to the bathroom? They would get caught by the garter clips and wouldn't clear the seat. Remember, a woman sits when she relieves herself. You'll give yourself away if you stand and pee in a women's restroom facing the toilet the "wrong" way. This is just one of the many gender differences you'll have to change in your mind set".

Karen turned to the closet and picked out a black knit dress. As she held it up I remember thinking it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. She slipped it over my head and I could feel my dick, inside my panties, trying to get even harder. The dress simply slid over my new body, filling the indentations and curves produced by the waist-cincher and the bra. It felt wonderful! She turned me around to get at the zipper as she patted the dress smooth against my newfound feminine figure. The neckline was V shaped, cut low and showed a bit of the lace trim on my slip. The top of the dress fit my body like a second skin. If she hadn't hooked the corset as tightly as she did, I could never have gotten into it. The skirt flowed smoothly against my thighs and derriere accenting their natural roundness. The hem came to the mid calf, with a slit up the front, all the way to my mid thigh. Aunt Karen reached up under my skirt and slightly adjusted my slip so that the two slits lined up perfectly. When I walked, they opened and showed generous amounts of my nyloned leg. I caught a partial look in the dresser mirror and was pleased that no unsightly bulge was apparent. Aunt Karen handed me a pair of black, patent leather, backless heels with a thin strap around the ankle and four inch spikes (they were the only pair I could squeeze into). She explained.

"If you can learn to walk in these you'll have no problem with any heels!"

She called these her "Fuck Me" shoes. After I saw what they did for my ankles and legs, I realized they were aptly named. She showed me how to stand, walk and sway. My first steps caused her to break out in gales of laughter. After she showed me how to "point my foot" and take smaller steps, I did better. Learning the proper amount of sway in my walk also was a problem, I tended to over swing my hips. Aunt Karen explained that women walked with their hips, men walked with their shoulders. We continued to work on walking until she was satisfied I looked natural. After I had satisfied her that I could walk in heels, Aunt Karen said it was time to take a break and let me become accustomed to the way the lingerie felt and how my dress moved as my body assumed different positions. She cautioned me about standing with my legs spread apart the way men do. Even though my feet hurt, I continued to move about the room while she got us some diet cokes.

When Karen returned, she had me practice sitting and bending, always remembering to keep my knees together. I discovered how a woman crosses her legs and how she tucks them under her skirt while relaxing on a couch. I had a lot of trouble with the skirt because of the slit up the front. It kept wanting to fall to either side ... exposing my panties. Crossing my legs or sitting at an angle with my ankles together was an absolute necessity. Auntie admitted, that sometimes women would use how they sat to tease a man ... if he interested them. She asked how I had liked looking up her skirt when I watched TV. This was the first time I realized she had known all about my voyeurism. I asked.

"Why did you let me see up your skirts?"

"All males, no matter their age, want to see up a woman's skirt. In your case, I was flattered by your attentions and thought it was just young, innocent curiosity. Over time, you'll learn that no matter how careful a woman is about the way she sits she'll still expose herself. It's the problem of wearing a skirt. They tend to rise up, especially the tight ones! We women have become accustomed to accidental exposure and since there isn't much we can do about it ... we use it to entice men. It was 'cute' to see you squirm. Many times I would ask you to go get me something to drink, just to cause you embarrassment. You also tried to 'catch' me undressing or stepping out of the shower. And how about the times you hid outside my bedroom window or the time you spied on me from inside my closet! You made so much noise I had a hard time not laughing. I'm sorry I did that to you back then, but at the time, I enjoyed knowing how much my legs aroused you and since you kept coming back for more ... it couldn't have been too bad! There were times I felt guilty about teasing you and to make it up to you I flashed my panties. I'm sure that excited you! All in all, I'd say we're about even.

There sure was a lot about Aunt Karen and being a woman, I didn't know! I had never realized how sexual she was, nor that women "used" the way they sat to entice or repel the opposite sex.

Then Auntie Karen taught me how a woman rises and how she folds her hands in front of her knees ... if she doesn't want to tease. She also taught me how a women "slips" into her heels vs. the way a man puts on his shoes. My Aunt lovingly corrected me every time I made a mistake. Eventually, with practice, I got it right.

After our break, she started with the hair and makeup. She sat me down with a towel around my neck and began to work on my face. I sat and enjoyed being taken care of as my Aunt made me up. As she applied the makeup, she showed me how it was done. She admitted that makeup would probably be the hardest thing I would have to learn. I would get better with practice, she promised. When my makeup was finished, we began removing the curlers. She brushed my hair into a soft wave, with a flip at the ends and put a touch of spray over it. These preparations took a long time. While doing the makeup she stated that this wasn't the normal way I would dress, but for our first time she wanted it special. Then Karen showed me all the places a girl puts a touch of perfume, applied some and now we were done!

As I said, all these preparations had taken a lot of time, it was almost 7:00 PM (we had snacked with our cokes). I was dying to see what I looked like. From the pleased expression on her face, I thought I would look good, but I wasn't really sure ... and I was a little scared. All this time I hadn't been allowed to see myself in a full length mirror. Karen warned me not to expect miracles, we would get better as we learned what worked for me. I was led, with my eyes closed, to the mirror in the hall.

This was the moment I had prayed for, the moment I wanted with all my heart. I prepared myself for the worst, then opened my eyes. Before me was a stranger! She was almost as pretty as Aunt Karen. A young woman of nineteen. The perfect age in my fantasy. A young girl who was definitely her relative. I couldn't believe my eyes, Amy was stunning. She was beautiful! No one would ever question if Amy was a girl. The dress was perfect. It fit my new feminine figure like it was made for me. The plunging neckline exposed just the right amount of cleavage. Enough to cause interest, but not enough to look cheap or draw too much attention. The slit up the dress opened to show my legs at their best. Wow, did Amy have great legs! When I looked at my features my opinion improved, they was perfect. I was perfect! I was truly a woman!

We spent at least the next two hours "girl talking". As we spoke, I continued to move around the house. I bravely attempted an excursion downstairs, which to my surprise went fairly well. I kept returning to the mirror at every opportunity. We did a lot of hugging, kissing and giggling. When Karen said it was time to get ready for bed, I started to object, but how could I say no to my wonderful Aunt. When she saw I wasn't going to complain, she said.

"I think I'm going to enjoy having a niece who doesn't argue like my nephew. You still have to learn how to get ready for bed. For girls its more difficult."

We went into her bathroom and she began showing me how to take off my makeup and prepare for bed. Aunt Karen realized I was becoming less excited as each piece of feminine clothing was removed and offered me a surprise. Auntie went to the closet and returned with a beautiful, white on white, Grecian cut nighty and slipped it over my head. It was made of silk, left one shoulder bare, as it draped across my breasts, gathered at my waist, fell just over my pantied ass and felt ... oh, so good! I got excited all over again.

When she came back into the room she had changed into a pink, sheer gown that hugged and accented her breasts. She told me to lie down on her bed. Then she turned out the overhead light, leaving only the small vanity table lamp on. It cast a soft light over her bed, just enough to see. I felt her crawl in beside me. Turning sideways, she lowered the bodice of her gown to her waist exposing both her breasts to my surprised view. Supporting herself on one elbow, Aunt Karen stared deeply into my eyes and in a whisper asked if I really wanted to be a girl in every way? When I nodded my head, "Yes", she explained how two women make love to each other. Taking my trembling hand she brought it to her warm breast! Coaching me, Auntie taught me how to "cup" and tease each mound of firm flesh. How to tease and "flick" the nubbins of aroused tissue she called her "nips". With each succeeding movement, her excitement grew. When she couldn't "take" anymore teasing, she pushed my hands away, pulled up her nighty, spread her thighs and introduced me to her "pussy". Warning me to be very gentle, she parted her labia, pointed out her budding clit and instructed me in the ways to further arouse a woman. I followed her direction, slowly "playing" over, under and around the moist center of her womanhood. Using the middle finger of my hand, I gently eased it into the warm, wet cavern of her cunni. I couldn't believe how smooth and soft the walls of my Aunt's pussy felt to the touch and how the inner muscles seemed to grasp at my finger each time I pulled it back. Slowly, I increased the speed of my strokes. This caused Auntie to gently ease my head between her splayed thighs. She taught me how to "eat" a woman. How to lick her pussy lips, but especially her clit. Auntie's mounting passion finally manifest itself by her grasping my ears and pulling my face hard up against the lips of her womanhood. I realized her need was now too demanding to curtail. Before I could "help" her, she began twisting my head, back and forth against her clitoris as she bucked her pelvis up and down. This caused enough pressure to set her off ... and she doused my face with her juices of lust. Her b orgasm excited me and I dove forward, causing a second series of sensual shock waves to course through Aunt Karen's throbbing organ. As Karen's orgasm slowed, I continued to lick and suck the sweet nectar running from her cunni, as moans of sexual satisfaction slipped from between her lips. Exhausted, Aunt Karen lay back basking in the warm afterglow of her two orgasms. I knew that she had come and suspected the second orgasm had been a multiple climax. Realizing her need to rest, I slid up next to her on the bed. Ever so gently, I ran my fingertips up and over every sensuous curve of her delightfully luscious body, being extra careful not to arouse my Aunt's passions any further. Ever since this first experience of "eating pussy" it's been my favorite way of showing a woman how much I'm enjoying her body. I've since discovered I also derive sensual excitement from the power I have over their emotions as they lose control due to my "flicking their Bic". As I rested my head in the hollow of her shoulder, I heard her ask?

"Would you like me to "eat your pussy"?

Reaching between Amy's legs, Karen gently massaged his cock and balls, still encased in their nylon pouch. Within seconds he was ready. Slipping the panties over his hard on, Karen stretched the elastic behind and under her nephew's ball sack. This caused his organ to stand straight out from his sparsely haired pubic bone. Cupping the sack, she teased the sensitive area behind it with her nails. Licking her lips, Karen lowered them to the purple tip of Amy's throbbing penis. Parting her moist lips she engulfed his entire crown. With a slow, twisting motion and a swirling tongue, she sucked her way back to the tip.

Tim couldn't believe the sensations Karen's mouth was causing. He had never gotten this excited from mere masturbation. He knew he couldn't take much more of her licking and sucking. When he felt his balls "tighten up" and the jism begin to rise he tried to pull away, afraid he would upset Karen by shooting off in her mouth. Karen's lips however wouldn't let go. Her jaws muscles held him tightly as she pulled the cheeks of his ass forward with her hands. As she increased her strokes, she felt his organ momentarily swell and then spasm in her mouth. Using her cheek muscles to suck out every drop, she swallowed every last spurt. Using her tongue, she then licked the excess that had run down his shaft, hoarding it in her mouth she "French-kissed" him. Amy tasted his own warm fluids and was shocked to find out he enjoyed the experience.

Afterwards, all we could do was grin at each other as we fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * * *

The next morning, as I awoke, I heard Aunt Karen speaking on the telephone downstairs. I reached between my legs and caressed my soft dick and balls through my warm, silky panties. I reminisced over what had transpired the day before, basking in the knowledge that my new and wonderful life was just beginning. After a while, I arose and walked to the bathroom. On the way I looked in the mirror and was again surprised at how much Karen had accomplished. I couldn't spend a lot of time admiring my reflection as I had to pee. Just walking to the toilet in my sexy nighty, bra and silky panties felt so good, it created another hard on. As I lifted my nighty and lowered my panties it became apparent that my dick wouldn't clear the toilet seat. I was forced to wait till it softened. I thought about going standing up, but decided I wasn't going to pee like a boy ever again ... I was a woman! Finally it went soft and I sat down and relieved myself. Karen must of heard me flush, because she called out.

"Amy, come downstairs before you get dressed."

When I entered the kitchen, she greeted me with a warm and loving hug and asked how I had slept. I stated it was the best night I had ever had. She smiled knowingly.

After breakfast, dry toast and juice, my Aunt took me upstairs and watched me dress in the clothes she selected. This time no corset or fancy lingerie. Two pairs of white nylon panties and a white cotton bra. The second pair of panties did just what she said they would ... hold my dick back tightly and thereby avoid an unsightly bulge. She handed me a simple tan colored straight skirt, with an elastic waistband, a white half-slip, a pink blouse, pink anklets trimmed in white lace and my own unisex penny loafers. She brushed my hair back into a short pony tail and tied it off with a matching pink ribbon. After she applied some pink lipstick and re-did my nails in pink, she said.

"Amy, you won't fool anyone up close, but from a distance ... you'll pass. Since I've taken care that you won't be seen up close, except by someone who needs to know, you'll be fine ... trust me!"

As we were walking out the door to the car, Karen handed me a small purse with a shoulder strap and showed me how a girl would carry it. As I stepped outside, a cool breeze blew up under my skirt. This was a new and strange feeling. I thought I was naked! My panties, which had grown warm from my body heat, were all of a sudden, deliciously cool again. Since I wore a straight skirt it didn't lift, but my reaction had been one of fear. When I tried to get into the car I almost fell on my face. I hadn't realized how the skirt would restrict my ability to move about. Auntie laughed, then showed me how a girl in a tight skirt sat down and then slid onto the seat. She also showed me how to fix my skirt by raising up and sliding my hands between the seat and my body thereby eliminating folds in the material. She cautioned me that if I didn't learn to fix it often, I would draw attention to myself since every woman had learned at an early age that the material would wrinkle and also would "rise". I was beginning to grasp just how much I had to learn. We headed towards the "city".

"Why are we going to Columbus?" I asked.

Aunt Karen told me she had a very close girlfriend, named Joyce, from her college years, who owned a beauty shop and boutique. The woman was gay and therefore had a more liberal attitude towards most things. Auntie had called her this morning, explained the situation and Joyce had agreed to help with hair and beauty tips. She warned me not to mention what we had done the night before ... she wasn't sure Joyce was that open minded.

We arrived at the shop, we parked in back, knocked on the rear door, which was opened almost immediately. Aunt Karen introduced Amy, her niece, to Joyce, the owner. Joyce instantly became my friend by saying.

"What a lovely niece you have, she looks so much like you."

Joyce was a tall woman, with short blond hair, an interesting face, pretty blue eyes and a strange smile of dominance. Karen and Joyce hugged and kissed each other and then Joyce hugged and kissed me. I had not expected her greeting me so warmly and I'm afraid I returned her gesture quite awkwardly. Giggling, the two women, explained this was the standard way women, who knew each other, "shook hands". A second attempt by Joyce to greet me was more successful. I certainly enjoyed the female way much more than the male. As we parted, Joyce noticed that my skirt began to "tent" (even though I wore two sets of panties). She pointed at my skirt and said.

"So he wants to be a girl, but he get turned on by kissing a woman ... your not gay."

"No", I hurriedly assured Joyce, "I only get excited by pretty women."

This brought a smile to both their faces.

As it was Sunday, the shop was closed and the curtains drawn. We had the entire place to ourselves. It was a typical beauty shop, but it also offered other services such as makeup assistance, tanning and electrolysis. Later I found there was a connecting door to the boutique, which was also closed. Joyce, her arm around my waist, led me to a chair and had me sit. I slipped onto the seat, fixed my skirt and crossed my legs. This brought a smile of approval from my Aunt.

Joyce took off my scarf and studied my face and hair. After a couple of minutes, Joyce called Aunt Karen aside and they talked. When they returned, Aunt Karen informed me that electrolysis was needed to form a more feminine hairline, arched eyebrows and to remove a few facial hairs. Joyce promised that when finished, my face would pass even without makeup. Since that was my ultimate goal, I agreed. The process took almost two hours to complete. I won't weary the reader with the how tos, just let it be said ... it hurt. When Joyce was finished ... the results were astounding. Everything Joyce had promised came true. Now I could pass all the time.

They decided that little could be done with my hair until it grew out. The one thing we did do was run an auburn rinse through it. Joyce said this would help obscure my identity from those who knew me. We had discussed a wig, but felt that it would look false and might bring about questions since girls my age seldom wore wigs. Now Joyce, with Karen's help, spent two hours teaching me how to apply makeup. While some things where difficult to get right, all in all, I did quite well. Later, my Aunt went out and came back with three chef salads from Wendy's. When I saw what I was allowed to eat, I said.

"This eating as a girl isn't going to be easy".

This brought peels of laughter from the women. After we ate, Joyce led us through the connecting door.

It was a transvestite's dream of heaven. There was every kind of lingerie imaginable and many items I couldn't even name. There were, bras, panties, nighties, garter belts, peignoirs, teddies, nylons, slips, girdles, corsets, waist cinchers and lots more. On one wall were blouses, skirts, tops and other outer wear. What amazed me were the variety of materials and colors. Auntie noticed the look on my face (I had a grin from ear to ear) and commented.

"I think Amy's starting to realize how much fun we girls have with clothes."

Joyce looked at Karen and asked.

"Should we get started?"

Up until this moment I hadn't realized what this was going to mean, then it came to me in a flash. I had to strip nude in front of Joyce! By the look on my Aunt's face, she had just come to realized it also. A quick look of concern flashed across her features, followed by a smile as she turned to me and asked.

"It's your decision, women aren't bashful with each other. Nudity among most women is a common occurrence. We try on clothes in front of each other. We help each other get dressed and we think nothing of accidentally touching another woman's body while we're helping. Are you one of us?"

I looked at my Aunt then at Joyce and started to strip. Pausing a moment as I was lowering my slip, I was hit by a mischievous thought. Being braver than I had a right to be, I offered.

"Don't you girls think I would learn quicker how feminine lingerie and apparel should fit if I could see you model some of it? After all, you tell me women aren't bashful in front of each other, and aren't we all girls here."

Understanding my meaning instantly, both women reacted differently. Aunt Karen's look of uncertainty was quickly overcome by Joyce's smile of amusement. Joyce was the first to accede to my request, followed hesitantly by my Aunt. I noticed that as they began removing their outer clothing they both watched each other. Aunt Karen's features couldn't disguise the look of misgiving, while Joyce's look was definitely lecherous. I had forgotten that Joyce was gay and that she therefore enjoyed looking at semi-naked women as much as I. I could tell my Aunt was embarrassed and assumed I would hear about this later. While I felt sorry to have been the cause of my Aunt's discomfort, it was exhilarating watching two women moving about in their panties and bras. As I became accustomed to their semi-nakedness, if I didn't about them sexually, we all realized that I could control my emotions. My erections were fewer and were mostly caused by the lingerie instead of the women. Somewhere during the afternoon my Aunt forgave me and even agreed that my earlier suggestion had proven to be a good one.

Now my fun started! Joyce and Karen went from aisle to aisle picking out all kinds of bras, panties, slips, etc. I spent my time, moving about the shop, inspecting all the sexy lingerie, fantasizing how it would feel and look on my body. In the past, whenever I had gone shopping with my Aunt, I had to disguise my interest whenever she bought lingerie. Now I was able to openly display my interest and appreciate the textures and colors. As Amy, I could touch anything I chose. Feeling good about my new-found freedoms, I selected a number of nightgowns, walked to the full length mirror and held them up against my naked frame. My Aunt Karen noticed, caught Joyce's attention and they both gave a "wolf whistle". A perfectly wonderful red blush rose to my cheeks ... followed by laughter from the girls.

The items they selected, I modeled. I experimented with assorted types of bra forms including those with "falsies" already in the cups. Some bras were designed to shape, raise and separate a woman's breasts so her figure looked fuller. Each time I modeled a pair of panties the women helped me adjust the fit. Some of the panties had forms built in to give the appearance of wider hips and fuller buns. I tried bras, girdles, waist cinchers, garter belts, corsets and various combinations. We picked out all shades and types of nylons. I tried babydolls with matching panties. My favorite items were the slips, full and half, in all the different colors and with lots of lace. Joyce and Karen were having as much fun as I. All of a sudden Joyce came up with an idea.

"Look, we're not near to being finished with picking clothes for Amy and there won't be enough time left to get to the mall before it closes! Besides, I'd like to go with you. Tomorrow is Monday and my shops are closed. Why don't we finish up here, drive to my house and have dinner. After dinner, Amy can try on some of my clothes. I have five closets full of skirts, blouses, dresses, tops, etc. We can spend the evening together and you can sleep at my place. I have plenty of room. The next morning, the three of us can go shopping for anything Amy still needs. Also, there are things we haven't talked about, including hormone pills and obtaining her some proof of identity. Besides, two adult females, working together, will insure we don't forget anything Amy needs to be taught."

That last statement convinced my Aunt that Joyce had a good idea.

We spent the next two hours collecting all the lingerie items I needed to start my feminine wardrobe. I now owned a complete selection of bras, panties, tights, nylons, slips, nightgowns, bras and camisoles. I also had panty girdles, a waste cincher with a built in bra, garterbelts and various shaped breast forms. In addition, I had shorts, designer jeans, blouses, tank tops, a few casual skirts and a white pleated skirt that stopped at my knee. Joyce went into the beauty shop and returned with all kinds of makeup and hair care products. When it came to paying, Joyce generously refused to accept Aunt Karen's credit card.

We loaded the cars and drove to Joyce's house. On the way, Auntie and I stopped at a drug store and bought various things we would need since we were sleeping over. As a test, I went in with her and easily passed with both male and female clerks and customers. One of the young male shoppers, brushed his hand against my ass and "copped a feel", just like I use to do as Andy. I was ecstatic. I had completely fooled him. I did remember to look disgusted by his actions. His older sister, standing nearby, saw him do it. Grabbing him by the arm and whipping him around, she proceeded to give him a verbal tongue lashing, then demanded he apologize to me. When she was satisfied by his apology, she turned to me, shrugged, as if to explain, "What can we expect, he's a male" and walked away. When Auntie and I got back in the car we were both giggling and laughing over the situation. When we stopped giggling, we drove to Joyce's house.

When we got there, she was waiting at the door. Joyce admitted she thought we either got lost, or had changed our minds about staying over. We hugged and kissed her as we entered and assured her we were looking forward to spending the evening with her. This brought a smile to Joyce's face and another series of hugs between us.

We moved to the living room. Aunt Karen and Joyce sat on the couch and I sat across from them. At first, we made small talk, then the issue of my identity switch was discussed. Joyce said she had a former lover who was now the state Director of Records. She was sure she could get her lover to establish the necessary documents so I could legally become Amy. Aunt Karen thought it was a great idea! I would have a new birth certificate, a Social Security card and later, and soon a drivers license. This was all I would need to begin my life over again as Amy. With these issues semi-resolved, Joyce asked about hormones. I had no idea as to what she was referring. Auntie knew, but I aware that certain hormones could physically change a person's looks and voice. After the women explained, we decided to look into that idea, but didn't know where to begin. Joyce said her gynecologist, a woman, had been trying to "get into her pants", for more than just an annual examination. Up until now, Joyce hadn't allowed the woman's advances, but she would, if the doctor would agreed to help us. Joyce called the doctor's phone service and left a message.

While the discussion continued, I took full advantage of the seating arrangement to steal looks up the skirts of both women. Joyce caught me staring up her skirt, smiled and opened her thighs a bit wider. Then she lowered her eyes to my knees and winked. I uncrossed my legs and "teased" Joyce by inching up my skirt and letting my thighs gently fall open. I now grasped the pleasure and power my Aunt had enjoyed when she "teased" me. Joyce and I continued to alternately tease each other by crossing our legs.

Just then, the phone rang. It was the doctor returning Joyce's call. Joyce talked to her, explained the situation, offering the doctor a "date" ... if she would help us obtain the correct dosage of female hormones. From the gist of their conversation, the doctor agreed, but only after we agreed to a complete physical. The exam was scheduled for Monday before the patients arrived. Joyce promised the Dr.'s cooperation would be rewarded and hung up. The women could tell I was excited by the idea of my own set of breasts. They warned me not to expect miracles, or women would not be having breast implant surgery. The doctor had informed Joyce that the drugs would also help proportion my figure, widen my hips, make my skin softer and smoother, eliminate facial and body hair and raise my voice. All this sounded great! I looked forward to meeting "my gynecologist".

With this out of the way, dinner was suggested. Needless to say, I was starving. We prepared a meal of grilled chicken breasts, baked potatoes and a salad. They let me eat almost my normal amount.

After dinner we went to Joyce's bedroom where I was told to strip, put on a garter belt, nylons, bra and matching panties. I selected a dark blue garter belt, taupe nylons, blue panties and matching underwire half bra. The women watched as I got dressed, offering suggestions and giggling openly when a problem developed with bending my penis back inside my panties. I was still having trouble with my nails. When I put the bra on, it pushed my chest up and in. This formed small but real tits and a small "v" of cleavage. Karen adjusted the straps so my nipples showed just over the top.

Joyce gave me a pair of three inch black leather pumps and showed me two different ways how to put them on while standing up. Joyce's shoes were a full size larger than my Aunt's and fit much better. The girls left me standing there and went to a walk in closet. Joyce handed Karen one outfit after another, till her arms were overwhelmed. When they came back, the fun began. I spent at least two hours getting dressed and undressed in Joyce's clothes. She had wonderfully attractive outfits, somewhat more youthful than Auntie's. It was fun wearing another woman's clothing. The "girls" would comment on each outfit, while "helping" me with the zippers, buttons and/or ties. I learned more, in those two hours, about women's clothes than all my studying had taught me.

After I had tried on all the outfits and they had decided which worked for me, Joyce gave them to me as a gift. What could I do but accept. I kissed and thanked her for her generosity and asked if she would become my "Aunt Joyce". This brought prompt tears to her eyes. She hugged me and said.

"I would love to be your Aunt."

I could tell Aunt Karen was also pleased with the way I handled the situation.

I now had about a dozen outfits to take home. I couldn't believe how my life had changed in the last two days. How lucky could a girl get? Not only did I have feminine clothes to wear, but I could wear them all the time ... because I was now a woman! What was even better was having the loving assistance of both my Aunts to help me grow into the role. I had dreamt of this for almost five years and now it was happening. The women decided we had had enough and showed me where to hang my new clothes. They said to join them in the living room when I was finished.

As I entered the living room I discovered where my Aunt had learned how two women made love to each other. Joyce and Karen were on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms ... ardently kissing. As I quietly moved closer, Aunt Joyce moved her hand inside Aunt Karen's blouse and inside her bra, cupping her breast. Karen's hand fell to Joyce's splayed thighs and gently stroked the firm naked flesh her fingers found there. At that moment Joyce discovered my presence. Winking at me, she proceeded to remove her lover's blouse and bra at the same time spreading her legs further apart in order to give me a better view. Aunt Karen, still unaware of my presence, "took" her partner's movement as a sign of encouragement and slid her teasing fingers up to the thin nylon strip of material covering Joyce's pussy. Twisting a finger under the cloth, she pushed it aside and with gentle caresses, worked her fingers around until she found her lover's opening.

Pausing a moment, she raised her head from the hollow of Joyce's neck and stated.

"We'll have to be quick, we don't want to be caught by Amy!"

This was too much for Joyce. Breaking apart in a fit of uncontrolled laughter, she giggled.

"It's too late for that, she's already seen your hand inside my hot pussy!"

Whipping around, tearing her hand from between Joyce's crotch, she reached for her blouse to cover her nudity. Just as she touched the cloth to her breasts, a look of uncertainty replaced the shock of discovery upon her features and just as quickly was itself replaced by a look of sheepish amusement. Joyce, meanwhile, was still caught in the throes of uncontrolled laughter, her spread thighs swinging open and shut like the lens on a camera. My Aunt Karen stared at her lover, then said.

"You knew he, I mean she, was there all the time and didn't tell me. I'll fix your ass for that!"

Joyce, upon hearing Karen's threat became even more agitated, no longer even trying to control her laughter nor her movements. Impishly, she reached out and tweaked Karen's exposed nipple and fumbling over the words exclaimed.

"You should have seen the look on your face when you realized you'd been caught with your finger up my 'sweet Geraldine' just like you use to when we were in college! Too bad I told you she was there, if I had waited, Amy would have seen how great you eat pussy."

"OH! Your a bitch!" exclaimed my Aunt. "I'll get you for that!"

Grabbing the arms of her "girlfriend" and pulling sharply, she easily maneuvered Joyce across her knees, raised her lover's skirt to her waist, lowered her panties and began spanking the upraised mounds of firm flesh presented before her. Joyce, in her weakened condition, helplessly fought back, kicking her legs, but to no avail. By the third slap she was no longer laughing, but instead, was pleading for forgiveness and begging Karen to stop. Karen refused. A bright pink color rose to the surface of Joyce's cheeks and became deeper with each slap of my Aunt's hand. I had obviously never seen a women being spanked before and was at first concerned, then realized I was becoming excited. Moving around to see better, I was torn between watching Karen's naked breasts bouncing up and down with each stroke and the enticing rear view of Joyce's ass and pussy as she kicked her legs. As I continued watching, the scene began to change. Joyce had stopped her pleadings and had replaced them with moans and sighs of pleasure. Karen, noticing the change in Joyce removed the hand she had used to hold her friend's ass over her knees and used it instead to caress the pink cheeks of Joyce's ass between the spanks. The spanks also slowed down, at which point Karen slid her finger down the crevice between her partner's cheeks, pausing a moment to tease the opening of Joyce's tush. This brought louder groans of pleasure from Joyce's lips. Auntie then moved up into the warm, wet opening of Joyce's "sweet geraldine". Joyce screamed out in abject pleasure as she felt the fingers searching for her now blood engorged clit. When Karen finally inserted three fingers inside her lover's cunni, Joyce screamed.

Aaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeee! Yes! Yes! Please fuck me with your fingers. Fuck me now!"

In and out pistoned my Aunt's cupped fingers. With each stroke Joyce's voice rose. With each stroke the sounds became more demanding. With each stroke the words became more unintelligible. Then in a crescendo of mixed words and sounds ... she came. Trashing her legs and digging her nails into the couch, she "bucked" her clit against the heel of her lover's hand as the juices of her womanhood oozed out of her "sweet geraldine". To this day, I believe this is the single most exciting example of a woman lost to the pleasures of lust that I have ever witnessed. Joyce's orgasm lasted and lasted. She milked every last ounce of pleasure from Karen's thrusting fingers and then when the pleasure was being replaced by that sweet sense of "pain" caused by sensitivity to the touch, she collapse off Karen's knees and lay spread-eagled upon the floor, at her lover's feet, oblivious to her surroundings, "mewing" and moaning before our startled senses. Neither I, nor Aunt Karen moved. We sat there, lost in wonderment over our friends condition. Later, after Joyce had somewhat regained the strength to move, we three sat on the couch, with me in the middle, hugging and kissing as we discussed what had just occurred. Neither of the women held back their feelings for we no longer felt any embarrassment between us. We three had been privy to a special moment in a women's life and could never be the same again. We had crossed into the realm of true "sisterhood", a place no one could ever intrude upon, nor could understand.

After some iced tea, we slowly returned to the topic of my needs. We decided that we would go to the doctor as planned, then get some breakfast and head for the mall. I still needed a variety of shoes and if we thought of anything else, the mall should suffice. We decided to dress up, this would cover all the bases, as far as where we could go later.

With all decided and it getting late, we moved to the bedroom to prepare for bed. It sure was more fun being a girl than a boy! We helped prepare each other for bed. The three of us in Joyce's over-sized bath-tub was a sight. Bubbles and spilled water everywhere. I was reticent to touch Aunt Joyce, but when she reached between my legs and cupped my balls, I understood I had been accepted. We played and teased with each other until the hot water ran out. Rising from it's warmth, we took turns patting each other dry. Then I was taught how to apply moisturizing cream. We left the bath and selected nighties to wear. I picked a white satin sheath, with spaghetti straps. The gown had a slit up the side, with bone colored lace across the bodice, hem and up the slit. When Joyce pulled back the covers it became obvious she liked to feel sensuous ... the sheets were made of black satin. That night I not only practiced my art of lesbian love-play, but learned new methods to excite a women. Joyce surprised both Karen and I when she took my "dickie", as she called it, into her mouth. I in turn surprised her when I orgasm, splashing the roof of her mouth with my seed. She later admitted that it was the first time she had "eaten" a "dickie", but enjoyed it. Aunt Karen suggested she try my "dickie" somewhere else, but Joyce, after a moments hesitation, rejected that idea, with a nervous giggle. So instead, she watched as Karen taught me the nuances of male to female love. Lowering herself upon my erection, she guided it between the warn, wet lips of her "geraldine". The sensations of being engulfed by her love-tunnel are indescribable. Slowly she rocked back and forth. Even though I had just come in Joyce's mouth, I was too excited to last long. When it became obvious I was ready my Aunt fucked me with abandon. As I trashed the bed with my kicking heels ... I came. As I lay there, basking in the afterglow of love we discussed how we each felt. Joyce spoke about giving her fist "blow-job", my Aunt Karen about fucking her new "niece" and I about experiencing my first woman. It had been a very long day and we were totally exhausted, so we had no trouble falling asleep wrapped in each other's arms like three spoons in a drawer.

* * * *

Monday morning came too early! Joyce and Karen got washed and dressed first so they could help me. I watched as they choose their clothes, dressed, put on their makeup and brushed their hair. Karen borrowed a black full slip from my new clothes and a black and white above the knee length dress from Joyce. The dress was a good fit, just a little snug on top. Joyce opened a drawer, picked out a sheer, black Lycra bra with a small flower pattern running through it. Opening another drawer she selected matching panties and a black garter belt with red velvet ribbons.

I commented that owning a lingerie boutique had it's advantages as far as fancy undies. She said that a lot of the lingerie she used for herself were samples given to her by the saleswomen who called on the shop. From a third drawer, she chose smoky gray nylons. Her dress was a charcoal gray brushed wool summer knit, with a scoop collar and a hem that stopped above the knee. It hugged her frame like a second skin and she looked outstanding. When I commented on how nice she looked, she said.

"I've got to look special for my new beau!"

The women decided on an ivory colored two piece outfit for me. Under the matador style jacket, I wore a rust colored satin blouse that accented my hair. The skirt was a wrap across type with three large buttons on my left hip. These buttons secured the skirt panels from my waist to mid-thigh. When I walked the lower portion of the skirt flared open and showed quite a bit of leg. The tightly drawn material of the skirt helped highlight the roundness of my buns. My hose was sandal colored and I borrowed a pair of brown alligator shoes with three inch heels from Aunt Joyce. Under my outfit, I wore rust satin panties that featured a tummy constraining control panel with built in hip and derriere enhancement. The control panel forced my cock down between my legs and was b enough to keep it there. Over the panties, I wore a white nylon half slip. My bra was white Lycra with soft gel filled breast forms. When I walked, my high heels caused my "tits" to jiggle and the satin blouse moved with them. I paraded in front of the girls, pouted at their wolf whistles (as a girl should) and smiled at their compliments.

We arrived at the medical building, took the elevator to the fifth floor and entered the reception area. I was introduced to DR. Mary Beals, my gynecologist. She was about forty, slightly overweight, short, with a motherly look about her. For the first time, I realized how much Joyce was doing for me.

We were shown into an examination room where I was asked to remove all my outer clothes. The doctor took my height, weight, age, blood pressure, pulse and listened to my heartbeat. Then she asked me to lower my panties and examined my genitals. Dr. Beals completed the exam and told me I could get dressed.

As I dressed, Dr. Beals asked me a series of personal questions, which I answered. I must have convinced her of my sincerity, since Dr. Beals wrote a six month prescription for hormone pills (Estrogen and Progesterone). In addition, I was given a starter shot. The doctor explained that I would begin to notice changes within a few hours and to expect some minor side affects. I would temporarily become irritable but that would last only a couple of days. The biggest change would be a noticeable loss of stamina and an eventual lessening of muscle bulk. The booster shot would take affect almost immediately, causing a pitch change and a minor sore throat. It would take about a month before my system adjusted and overcame the supply of male hormones my body produced. Later, we would then decide future treatment options based upon my desired goals; a sex change, a continued low dosage of pills, or somewhere in between. Aunt Karen paid the doctor and we waited in the reception room, while Joyce remained with Mary. As we left the examination room we heard Mary tell Joyce to remove her clothes and get up on the table with her feet in the stirrups for her examination.

During our wait, the door opened and a most attractive woman, dressed as a nurse, walked in, sat down at the receptionist's desk, opened an appointment book and asked if we needed help. We informed her we had already seen the doctor and were waiting for our friend. As the nurse smiled her understanding, the phone rang. She answered it. Whatever the topic was, it caused her to slide her desk chair to a bank of filing drawers. She continued speaking while searching for some files. In doing so, she parted her legs, offering me the opportunity to see up her skirt. I had been reading a magazine and used it as cover to see up all the way to the thin strip of nylon barely covering "everything she owned". I realized the nurse wouldn't have exposed herself so casually if she had known there was a male in the office. I continued to stare and even adjusted my position lower in order to see better. The nurse had great legs! The kind that "went all the way up". Unexpectedly, she looked up and caught me staring at her crotch. Her instinctive reaction was to swiftly close her open legs, grab the files, slide the chair back to her desk and finish the call. Before she could say anything about my being rude, the intercom beeped, she answered it and turning to Aunt Karen, announced.

"The doctor wishes to see you again."

As the door closed behind Aunt Karen, the nurse asked if I liked what I saw. I assumed she was gay and was another "friend" of the Doctors. Embarrassed, I apologized for being so rude, but complimented her on her gorgeous legs. She stood up, moved to the front corner of the desk and leaned against it facing me. This brought her uniform covered crotch to the level of my eyes. Grasping the hem, she teasingly raised her skirt to her waist, offering me a delicious view of her thighs and panty clad pussy. The crease of her opening and the matted curls of her mound plainly evident through the sheer material. Just then we heard the sounds of my Aunts coming back into the room. The nurse quickly dropped her skirt, but remained leaning against the desk. Joyce knew the nurse and introduced Karen and I to Roberta. We exchanged in the usual female chit chat, said our good byes and left. As we departed, I turned back to the nurse, silently mouthed a thank you and licked my upper lip. Roberta "flounced" her skirt and threw me a silent kiss.

In the car, we discussed the exam and I thanked Joyce once again for her sacrifice.

"Amy, don't worry about it ... I enjoyed it! If I'd know how good Mary could 'eat' me, I would have given myself much sooner." She said.

When I mentioned that Roberta had caught me staring up her uniform and that I thought she was gay, Joyce explained.

"Roberta used to be a Robert. Mary performed a gender change upon him three years ago. Now she works there and is also Mary's lover. I wondered if you two were fooled. Amy, she may have recognized you and made the presumption you were there to consider a sex change."

Aunt Karen and I were amazed! We had been completely fooled.

* * * *

We drove to Sammy's Pancake House for breakfast. When I told the waitress I wanted an order of flapjacks, Aunt Karen suggested that I try the low-cal breakfast fruit plate instead. So that's what I grudgingly ordered. Eating was the only part of being a girl I didn't like. We spent an hour chatting over our coffee. Upon leaving, I did noticed two businessmen eyeing us as we passed by their booth. Their roving eyes moved from Aunt Karen's breasts, to Joyce's ass, then across my bouncing breasts and down to my legs. I thoroughly enjoyed the attention! It felt good to not only fool them, but to know they found me attractive.

We arrived at the mall as the stores were opening. Since it was Monday morning, very few shoppers were present and those few were mostly young women with pre school children. Our first stop was the Bass shoe store. A pretty young girl measured my foot (Size 9), went to the stockroom and returned shortly with six pairs to try on. This was no different than buying shoes when I was a boy. The shoes fit, I liked three of the styles, so we bought them. This pleased the salesgirl so much she offered me her card and said.

"If you need anything in the future, please ask for me, I'll be happy to assist you in any way I can."

I assured her I would remember her the next time I needed shoes. We paid the bill and asked her to hold the shoes for us until we finished shopping, which she readily agreed to do.

Now that we had the correct shoe size, we headed to Lazarus. A department store at the far end of the mall. Joyce had suggested we walk the mall, end to end, window shopping as we went and make our purchases on the way back. That way we wouldn't have to carry so much. As we walked, I made mental note of a few stores I wanted to look into upon our return. In the past, I would have accepted "any" chance to own a dress, now I could be selective.

We reached the end of the mall and entered the Lazarus store. When we approached the escalator, the "girls" warned me about the treads and the problem of heel spikes catching in the slots. I would have never thought of that by myself ... I obviously still had a lot to learn about being a woman! We three girls shopped the entire store. I looked through the lingerie department, but what Joyce had given me was much prettier. We moved to the better dresses, where we all found dresses we liked.

I was having a ball, being in public and clothes shopping with them, not just "going along" with them. It was so much more fun discussing the clothes with each other. This time when my Aunt held a dress up against my frame, there was no teasing. When we went to the dressing area an immaculately coiffured and dressed woman of about twenty-eight offered to assist me. I looked to my Aunts for help, but they just smiled. The woman escorted me to a private room (4'x 6'), hung my dress selections on the hook and said if I needed any help with the buttons, to call out.

I undressed, picked the dress I liked least and put it on. From the other side of the dressing-room door, a voice asked how I was doing and if I liked the dress. I answered.

"I don't care for it, it doesn't hang right."

In a sincere voice, the woman (I didn't remember her name) said.

"Oh, that's too bad, I'm sure the next will be better."

As I took off the dress and reached for the hanger, the door opened slightly and a hand appeared. The voice said.

"Don't bother with that, I'll take care of rehanging it."

I handed her the dress and the hanger ... and the door closed.

The second dress fit much better and I liked the way it looked on me. Wanting my Aunts' opinions, I opened the door, stepped out and was met by compliments from the saleswoman. Aunt Karen walked over from her saleslady, commented on how perfectly wonderful the dress fit and urged me to buy it.

"I probably will." I answered.

She asked my opinion of her selection and I told her it was an excellent choice which flattered her figure. As I turned to look for Joyce, Martha (I read the name on her I.D.) exclaimed.

"Oh No! There's a flaw in the material."

She reached down, lifted my dress (I had removed my slip because the dress was much shorter) and examined the skirt. Using her nail, she scratched at something and it flaked off. She pulled the material up and around so I could look at it.

There I stood, before a stranger, with the back of the dress above my waist ... my pantied ass for the world to see. My Aunt started to giggle, whereupon the saleswoman, Martha, realizing what she had done, quickly dropped the material and repeatedly apologized for her mistake. She petitioned me to excuse her ineptness, explaining she had only been trying to show me that there was no flaw. I assured Martha, that I took no offense, realized it had been just an accident and even remarked I appreciated a determined saleswoman who tried as hard as she did. I informed her it would remain our secret, winked and hugged her cheek to cheek (I was getting this "woman to woman" friendship thing down pat). She thanked me and tried to apologize once more.

I said, "Martha, we're all girls here, what have I got that you don't and since when can't one women help another get dressed."

I thought Aunt Karen was going to choke she was laughing so hard. I turned to go try on the last dress and heard Martha whisper softly very close to my ear.

"Your so very very sweet, I'd really be happy to help you get in and out of the next dress ... if you want Me or my help!"

There was no way I could mistake her meaning, especially the "want Me!" comment. She purposely emphasized the pronoun "Me".

I entered the dressing room and closed the door behind myself. Quickly removing the dress, I swung the door open wide enough for Martha to see me in just my bra, panties, garter belt, nylons and heels. The expression on her face, as her eyes devoured my body, was one of sexual desire. Handing her the dress, I turned away, bent over, allowing her to get a "good" look at my panty covered cheeks and picked up the hanger. The "hungry" look on Martha's face confirmed my suspicion ... Martha was turned on to me! I handed her the hanger and using my other hand, I ran one finger slowly over her pursed lips. A low moan caressed my fingertip. As Martha moved to step forward into the dressing room with me, I grabbed her by the shoulders, half-turned her and ushered her out. After a minute, I called out through the closed door.

"Martha, could you help me with the buttons?"

Martha slid into the dressing-room, saw immediately that I was still undressed, locked the door and came to my open arms. Some very hot kissing took place. I lifted her skirt along with her slip, slid my hand inside her pantyhose and used a finger to part the already moist folds of her labia. I must have brushed the tender bulb of her clit, as a shudder coursed through her.

I told her, "You've seen me, now I want to see you."

I pulled her clothes above her waist, had her sit down on the bench-seat, slipped her hose down to her ankles, raised her slender legs over her head and moved my lips to her hot juicy cunt. She spread her thighs in expectation.

Martha whispered "I'm hot already, it won't take me long to come, then if you like, I'll have time to go down on you!"

I lowered my face to her womanhood, inhaling the sweet, musky fragrance of a female in heat. It took all my self control to delay her orgasm. Each time Martha approached orgasm and softly begged to come ... I stopped. When she tried to conceal the closeness of her orgasm, I relented. Two flicks against her clit brought a low moan and she came. She locked her hand over her mouth to mute the screams erupting from deep within her soul. Kissing her pussy a last time, I helped her up.

After a moment, she opened her eyes, looked in mine and said.

"That's the greatest orgasm I've ever experienced, thank you! Now it's my turn to do you."

Now the question, what would her reaction be when she lowered my panties and found a penis where she expected to find a pussy. I felt sure that I controlled the situation. After all, I was the patron and she certainly couldn't tell anyone what had occurred.

Martha reached up, grabbed the waistband of my panties, pulled them down to my ankles and looked up just as my dick sprang from between my thighs. A long moment of utter confusion, replaced by a moment of true understanding and then a smile of anticipation. She opened her mouth and licked the head with her wet tongue.

"This is even better than I expected! Will you fuck me?"

"I would love to fuck that sweet, juicy opening between your legs, but we can't! My cum would run out your pussy and down your legs, ruining your clothes. Somebody would surely notice and you might lose your job! Suck my cock, swallow all my cum and we'll make other arrangements afterwards."

Without a word, Martha grabbed my dick, inserted it in her hot mouth and sucked. I stood there amazed as she took more and more down her throat until she had taken all of it. This woman could suck cock! As she pulled back, her lips dragged their way to the tip of my cock with a slow twisting motion. I knew I couldn't take much of this. I looked into her blue eyes and saw the twinkle of amusement which told me she planned a prolonged and extended suck. Even though I wanted to experience what she had planned for me, I cautioned her about the time and her being so long off the floor. She nodded her understanding, took my entire length down her throat, swallowing the head. She sensed my need, increased her movements and made me come. I exploded down her warm throat, then into her mouth as she pulled back. Martha sucked and swallowed every last drop of hot juice I had to offer. When she released my spent muscle, she smiled, licked her lips, stood up and we kissed. We quickly straightened our dresses. She left the room first and a short time later I emerged as if nothing unusual had occurred. I told Martha (for everyone to hear) I would take both dresses. She rang them up, bagged them and handed me the receipt. Under the sales slip was her name, address, phone number and a short note. "Thank you, I truly enjoyed helping you!" As I took the slip from her hand, our fingers gently touched. With a sensual pouting of lips and a wink, we returned to reality.

Leaving the better dress department, we stopped in the women's shoe department, found nothing we liked and exited to the main mall.

Joyce said, "Let's sit on this bench and have a cigarette."

We sat down, me in the middle (so they could use the ashtrays), when Joyce asked.

"All right, what happened between you and the salesgirl?"

Aunt Karen looked totally confused, she hadn't notice, but my "eagle eyed" other Aunt sure had.

I spent ten minutes explaining what had happened in the dressing room between Martha and I. As I finished my story, I stated.

"For eighteen years I get no sex, now, dressed as a woman, it finds me!"

I could tell Aunt Joyce was a little upset with me and hoped this aside would placate her. It didn't work!

"Young lady (I knew I was in trouble now), I realize this is all new and exciting to you, but you'll have to learn a little restraint. Having sex in a public area is dangerous, we all could have been arrested. We would have been ruined and most probably ended up in jail. The only smart thing you did was not fucking the salesgirl.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't think past my desire. I promise it won't happen again. I want your love and acceptance more than anything else. Please forgive me?"

Both women grasped my hands and squeezed.

Karen spoke. "Of course we forgive you. We love you and know you love us, that's why we're sure you'll keep your promise."

I looked to Joyce, she shook her head yes and smiled.

We finished our break and headed for 9 West, another shoe store. We had seen shoes to match some of my outfits from Joyce. The store was empty, except for a young clerk reading a magazine. We sat down in an out of the way corner, partially shielded from the rest of the mall, by a rack of "Sale" shoes. He came over, with a truly insincere and leering grin on his face. We turned to each, communicated with our eyes and smiled sweetly when he asked if he could help us. Karen uncrossed her legs, left them slightly parted and asked to see some red leather pumps in a size 7 1/2. Joyce asked for black leather flats also in a 7 1/2 (the wrong size). She had to ask at least twice, his attention was so riveted on Aunt Karen's legs. Not wishing to be left out, I handed him three sample shoes, claiming I didn't know my shoe size. As he slid in front of me, I uncrossed my legs, flashing him a bit of inner thigh and lifted my foot to be measured. He grasped my ankle in one hand and removed my shoe with the other. As he slid the shoe off my foot, his curled fingers "teased" my lower arch, making my foot jump, forcing my thighs further apart. It obviously was a well practiced habit of his to obtain a better look up a woman's skirt. After insincerely apologizing, the man measured my foot, stated "9B" and left for the stockroom.

While he was gone, we three girls conspired our punishment for his rude and lecherous attitude. My Aunt's would tease him, by partially exposing their thighs and get him excited. I was to follow their lead and finish embarrassing him with their additional help, if needed. In the process I would learn some of their techniques and get to practice mine. Aunt Joyce and I recrossed our legs and modestly fixed our skirts. Aunt Karen, on the other hand, adjusted her skirt much higher and moved her knees further apart.

The salesman returned shortly, saw Karen's legs versus ours and squatted in front of her. Before he could reach for her ankle, she placed it in his lap, acting as if this was a normal action on her part. The stunned look of surprise was precious. He almost lost his balance. Karen bent and raised her knee so he could put the shoe on her foot, thereby "showing" her panty covered crotch. He fumbled the shoe onto her foot, all the time staring up her raised skirt. Aunt Karen held her knee bent swinging her ankle back and forth as if examining her foot thereby opening and closing her thighs to his view. His head wavered in rhythm to my Aunt's movements reminding me of the swaying dance of a cobra. I looked at his crotch, his erection was obvious, it tented his solid gray slacks. Having previously been in that position, I knew how badly he wanted to adjust his cock to a more comfortable position. Auntie said she didn't care for the style or the fit and lowered her leg, waiting for him to remove the shoe. Not being able to stand without revealing that he had a hard on, he stoop walked to Aunt Joyce. As he squatted before her, he attempted a quick adjustment of his clothing, but from the look on his face, he failed miserably. Now, Aunt Joyce went to work. Instead of offering her foot, she took the shoe from his hand, crossed her ankle over her knee and attempted to force the shoe on her foot. She slid the shoe back and forth, trying to get her foot into the too small shoe. This sideways movement afforded him an excellent view of his second pantied pussy. A soft groan, covered by a feigned cough, issued from between the salesman's lips. Joyce asked what size shoe this was. When he answered 7 1/2, she said.

"Well, obviously, that's why it doesn't fit, I specifically told you 8 1/2."

"I'm sorry." he replied. Taking the shoe from her outstretched hand, all the while holding the shoebox over his crotch, he started to move towards the stockroom..

"I'll get the right size!" he said as he scooted away.

After a couple of minutes, he returned, in somewhat better shape, but still carrying a shoebox at his crotch.

"We don't have your size in stock, but I have a size 9 if you care to try it."

Joyce shook her head and "demurely" replaced her shoe.

Now it was my turn. I wanted to prove I could "tease" as good as my Aunts. This time, instead of squatting, he sat on his little stool. I gracefully raised my foot and using a shoe horn, he slid my foot into the shoe. I used a technique similar to Karen's. Namely, raising my leg straight out, but only slightly parting my thighs. The shoe fit, I said I liked them, then using Joyce's method (ankle across my opposing knee), I slowly removed the shoe. I continued my game as he fit the second style. As before, I offered him an exciting view of my thighs, but no more. I said I would take this pair also. I was determined to exceed both Karen and Joyce. Up until now, I hadn't allowed him to see up my skirt to my panty covered crotch. I could tell, that he had lost all self control and would meekly do whatever I wanted, if only he was allowed to see more. I slid forward in the chair, causing my skirt to expose my thighs at the welt. Now he was hooked! Placing my foot in his sweaty palm, I asked him to fit the third style, on both feet. When he did as I asked, I placed my feet on the floor, slightly back of my knees. As I looked down, my thighs opened wide. This was his best view of the day and I was rewarded with a groan. This time he made no effort to cover the sound with a cough. He was too excited to think straight.

Leaving my thighs open, I said. "I'll take these in addition to the other two pairs."

Then to the women, I stated. "This shopping is exhausting!"

I leaned back in the chair and asked if he would assist me, but maintained my feet back behind my knees and my thighs spread. He reached down and in so doing placed his face directly between my open knees ... less than a foot away from my "womanhood". From under my skirt came a long groan and then an even longer moan. His hand shot to his crotch where he attempted to stem the flow of his juices ... he had come in his pants. We "girls" couldn't stop laughing. We sat there, watching the ever-widening wet spot on his pants grow as he lowered his head in embarrassment. As we left, Joyce turned back to him and spoke the best comment of the day, "Thank you and 'come' again."

We walked down to Pappagallo Shoes, where I purchased a pair of brown alligator shoes to match the ones I borrowed from Joyce. These were a size 9, fit better so I wore them and had Joyce's boxed instead. As it was about 1:00 P.M., we decided to pick up our purchases (we now had four dresses and seven pairs of shoes), carry them to the car and drive somewhere for a light lunch. We stopped in two more dress shops on the way, but found nothing we really liked. By the time we got to our car, I was fatigued. Obviously the doctor's warning about my stamina was correct.

* * * *

We went to lunch at Friday's. I was smart enough to order a Cobb Salad (filling and low in calories). We took our time over our meals and didn't leave till about 2:30. We then headed back to Joyce's house. Our mood was definitely reserved. Without a word being said, we realized we were not spending another night with Aunt Joyce. When we got to her house, we packed up the clothes I had been given and transferred our purchases from Joyce's car to ours. Parting was not easy. Nobody wanted to say good-bye.

Aunt Karen finally said, "We need to leave before the traffic gets too bad."

We went inside, hugged and kissed each other till the tears started. The mood swung 180 degrees when Karen asked.

"Joyce, why don't you be our houseguest this weekend?"

Joyce readily agreed and the tears changed to squeals of joy. We kissed and hugged, made our way to the car and drove off. On the way back, we talked about everything that had occurred. I told Karen how happy I was with my new life and thanked her again for the opportunity. She said I was welcome and that my gender switch also made her happy. She reminded me, her life had also changed. Now instead of being sexually frustrated all the time, she was again enjoying the entire aspect of being a woman. When we arrived home, we unloaded, carried everything inside and put it away. At the same time we stored all of my male clothes in the attic. My drawers now contained all the silky, lacy and pretty girl things I had always dreamed about. I had a drawer for my panties, bras and garter belts. A second contained my slips and hose. Another drawer held my foundation garments and breast forms. My Aunt suggested that I might want to rearrange the placements after I became more accustomed to getting dressed. My closet was full of dresses, skirts, blouses and shoes. I also hung my nighties in the closet, even though Karen stated a drawer would be a better choice. Right now, I enjoyed seeing them hanging there. When we finished, we lay back on the bed, exhausted. Looking around, she said.

"We need to redecorate your room! The colors OK, but all the furniture, curtains and bedspread are wrong. Let's look at the catalogs for some ideas."

We spent hours deciding, the styles, colors and materials for my new room. Aunt Karen said we would buy or order everything the next day and we could set it up when Joyce came. She took as much pleasure in the decisions as I did. My Aunt really enjoyed having another woman in the house. My redecorated bedroom would be ultra-feminine, with a canopy bed, lace trimmed curtains and pink pastel lamps. Auntie suggested we buy a few dolls and some stuffed cuddly animals to sit on my bed and dressers. With this all decided, we went to the kitchen and made dinner. After dinner, we changed into clothes more suitable to lounge around in. My Aunt came to my room dressed in a pair of white satin pajamas and then assisted me in removing the last of my makeup. I selected a pair of green pajamas, also made of satin. Instead of our usual evening spent watching TV, we talked. This was much more satisfying. Aunt Karen went into detail about her life as a young girl and her marriage. I learned more about her in three hours than I had in the previous sixteen years. She told me what a poor lover my uncle had been, never bringing any imagination to their love life. She found out after they split up that he had been with other women almost from the start of their marriage. He obviously felt the need to constantly conquer any woman he could. She cried a little as we talked, while I held her and kissed away the tears. She expressed she was glad I was nothing like him. In an effort to change the mood, I asked a question which brought instant gales of laughter to the two of us.

"You mean he didn't like to wear a dress?"

We spent the rest of the evening just enjoying each other's company, talking about the future, the things I needed to learn and trying to think of any problems we might encounter. When we decided it was time for bed, we climbed the stairs, hand in hand and made our way to Auntie's room. We laid down, side by side, facing each other and snuggled into each other's warmth. We talked, we touched and we gently played with each other, not to arouse, but to cherish the excitement of being together. I don't know when, but we fell asleep cradled in each other's arms.

The end

© 1996 Kresha Matay & Michelle Johnson