A chance encounter in the laundry room leads two lonely people into something far beyond what either could imagine. All it takes is a sense of curiosity, an open mind and a bit of unrequited lust.

(The Darlene saga was my first attempt at writing fiction that wasn't purely sexual. By the time I finished the series the sex scenes were mostly a distraction that didn't contribute to the story. So here is the R rated version of how Darlene and Jenny found each other.)

Darlene's Weekend

By Ricky

Living in an apartment complex gives you a great opportunity for people watching. My unit faces the parking lot, so I get to see just about everyone who lives here while they seldom see me. There’s one young couple that must be newlyweds, they are constantly kissing, holding hands and petting each other. Must be nice, I've been living alone for longer than I like to contemplate. Then there’s an older gentleman who unfailingly fires up his BBQ smoker all summer long, rain or shine. Being an assertive woman, I long ago managed to walk by at the right moment and make adoring comments about how good it smelled. I've shared a few meals with him and his wife and it tastes just as good as it smells!

There are a couple of middle aged guys who ride big hogs but dress like businessmen. It didn't take much to convince them to take me along for a ride. I love the feeling of leather against my breasts and my hair flying free in the wind. Too bad they were partners, my breasts against Tim's back might have lead to something interesting.

There were a few young families, a sprinkling of career women and not a few good looking guys living here. There were two who drew my attention. Charlie, who I usually saw as he went jogging, had a nice bod and good moves. We dated a couple of times but nothing much happened, so we wave at each other in passing.

Then there was Don. We had crossed paths in the occasionally and he seemed pretty nice. His sardonic sense of humor was much like mine and he held his own in the spontaneous punning contest we fell into one evening in the parking lot. I thought he lived alone, and I had occasionally indulged in some flights of fantasy with him in a starring role. If my reaction makes you think I had been living alone for too long you’re right on the first guess. Erotic stories and a dildo only go so far, my horns were getting long enough to leave scratches in the floor. The problem is I am not into one night stands, what with AIDS and all, and in any case I like my sex to be a lot more personal and connected than trolling the bars.

Not that I haven't made exceptions, but he had better be willing to use a condom or he isn't going to share my bed. He had better leave me feeling right before he I'll roll over and open my legs for him.

Does that make me sound like a pushy broad? It's a title I have come by honestly. See, I'm a Union Organizer; not only do I have to fight Management Jerks I have to contend with the misogynist Union Jerks who think a woman can't hold an opinion or hold her own in a fight. I've managed to show both sets of jerks they're wrong and I love what I do, but living alone is lonely! The occasional fling helps but it ain't what I'm after in the long term.

When Don had been there about a month I started to notice a woman using into his car every once in a while. There something about the way she moved, and the fact that I only saw her on weekends that aroused my curiosity. Were they an 'item' or what?

I will also admit that I am an accomplished snoop, so one evening when I was in the basement doing laundry I noticed Don's basket on top of one of the washers. I didn't hear anyone else around so I lifted the top of the washer and took a look. Rats, skirts and bras along with the jeans and towels. She must be living with him, at least part time. She had better teach him how to do laundry the right way or her pretty things were going to be ruined. Lingerie with blue jeans, fer cryin' out loud!

Serves me right for snooping, there goes another fantasy down the drain with the laundry suds.

So anyway, I was down in the laundry room very late one Friday evening when Don came down to empty his dryer. Doing your laundry in public can be a bit embarrassing, after all who wants the world to know what kind of underwear you prefer or if there are holes in your socks. (Yes I appreciate the irony of my snoopy self thinking like that!) He was dressed in shorts and T-shirt, which let me see that his legs were sexy as hell. We talked a bit while he waited for the dryer to finish. Even knowing he had a live in lady I flirted shamelessly while we waited for the buzzer. Was he starting to look interested? I didn’t' want to screw up his romance, but I couldn't help myself. I had decided he was definitely interested when the sharp wail of the buzzer distracted him. He started filling his basket and, again to my disappointment there were several bras and panties among the clothes.

Damn, so much for my flirting. I bet his lady fair wouldn’t be too pleased that he was wrecking her bras. Putting a bra in the dryer wrecks the elastic. I hate it when my tits flop around, but I suppose that doesn’t seem like a disadvantage from a male point of view.

As he bent over the dryer I saw the outline of a bra beneath his shirt and suddenly something went "CLICK" in my head! Could it be that the stud of my fantasies was also the mystery woman? When he turned around I mentally put a wig on his head and I had no doubts left, so by the trite expedient of pretending to trip I knocked over his basket while dumping mine. As we sorted things out I noticed the practiced way he folded my underwear. I handed him back one of his bras and asked him why put it in the dryer, pointing out the puckered straps on the one he was wearing. I swear he looked like an 8 year old with his hand in the cookie jar.

"It’s OK, in fact you look kind of cute when you get dressed up." All right, it wasn’t a huge lie and I didn’t want to scare him off. "I wondered who the lady was that was driving your car, but didn’t realize it was you until just now."

The 8 year old regressed to a 3 year old with great shining eyes who had discovered something new and amazing. With a little bit of finesse and some unexpected but not uninteresting revisions, I might be able to turn my idle fantasies into reality after all.

Back then I had been reading some erotic fiction when my lust got too strong to resist, Penthouse Forum was just about right for my tastes, and some of those stories I had been reading starred crossdressers. Some of them were, I admit it, really hot. I decided to go for broke.

"Hey, you want to come up for a cup of coffee, I have decaf if you want to get to sleep tonight."

I didn’t quite flutter my eyelashes or stare longingly into his face, but when I want to let a man know I am interested the message usually gets across.

I took him back to my place and fed him, which is always a good way to start a seduction. Somehow I forgot to flirt, because when I asked him about why he liked to wear women’s clothes I inadvertently opened the floodgates. The ice cream grew warm and the coffee got cold as he tried to tell me about his crossdressing. As he spoke something strange happened - I recognized someone with a loneliness much like mine. As he spoke began to feel understand his need. His love for bras brought back the incredible excitement of my first training bra.

"You know, I have always been a tomboy." I told him. "My mother had to practically force me into a dress on Sunday mornings to go to church. I lived in jeans a baseball cap for days at a time, and even today I only wear skirts once in a blue moon. Even so, I still remember when my mother bought me my first training bra. She made me wait until I was 11 years when most of my friends had been wearing them forever. I didn't need one, but I was sure my mother wanted to keep me a baby until I was an old hag, never to experience womanhood. She may have been right but I didn't care!

I was so excited I could hardly stand it! I think I needed that bra just as much as you do. I didn’t have any tits, there was nothing for it to support, but it was my passport into womanhood. It made me one of the big girls, one of the special ones."

His eyes were shining once again, and I knew we had shared something special.

"So, can I see it?"

The kid with the cookie jar was back for a second, but by then we had started to trust each other.

"It figures.," he said, "The first time anyone has ever seen me in my bra and its one of the oldest, ugliest ones I own. Well, just remember you asked!"

He skinned off his shirt and let me see. He was right, I would have thrown it away long ago. The straps were puckered, the elastic shot and it was a bit too small for him. The band had pulled up almost to his nipples and the cups fluttered loose..

"The darn thing rides up without the breast forms in it." He tugged it down a bit. "I've been dying to do that for quite a while, but I didn’t want to do anything to offend you."

"Offend me? Tug all you want, it won’t bother me. You know, we ought to get you a new bra that fits properly. Just a second."

I dug through the sewing drawers and came up with a tape measure. Standing behind him I pulled the tape around his chest, an awkward method of measuring with my breasts pressed against his back, but it had definite advantages for me. Forty inches for the band. I started to wonder about some other measurements.

What a perfect excuse to run my hands over his body as I figured his sizes. I ran my hands over his chest, feeling the empty cups of his bra and the pecs beneath them. His hips were very slim, not feminine at all, but I took my time with the tape. Since I was kneeling behind him I couldn't see his cock, but his ass was alive under the shear fabric of the panties. What the hell, I went for broke and turned him around to face me.

"Turn around and let me measure your inseam."

Yeah, right, brilliant conversation. Why the hell did I need to measure an inseam? Not to fit a bra, but when my hand touched his balls his panties quickly became too small to contain him. I pulled down the waistband and couldn’t resist measuring one more part of his body.

Not spectacular, but nicely thick and certainly long enough for what I had in mind. If only I had the foresight to have a few condoms around the place it would have been perfect, but we managed quite nicely without taking a chance on pregnancy. I think he was disappointed when I barred entry without protection, but he was gracious about it. His fingers are very talented, I might add!

My horns were trimmed and loneliness banished right there on the carpet. When we were finally satisfied I couldn't support myself over him any longer and rolled to the living room floor beside him. We shared a kiss and a luxurious time just holding each other. After a while we realized that no matter how great the lovemaking, the floor starts to get too hard to keep laying there.

"You could get your nightgown out of the laundry basket and spend the night with me if you want. I think I would really enjoy that."

So much for my resolve about one night stands. Only one thing to do about it - make sure we spent more than one night together. With an adequate supply of condoms handy!

The next morning I woke to the lovely feeling of someone else in the bed with me. I was sorely tempted to start another round then and there, but once again I bemoaned the lack of contraception. I would have to go shopping quickly and rectify this woeful lack. I may be horny, but I’m not going to get pregnant or catch some social disease. I got up and started breakfast while he continued to snooze. He made quite a sight, stumbling into my kitchen in his nightgown, hair flying wildly and sleep still in his eyes. I plied him with coffee and pancakes until his conversation started to make sense.

"If you want to get dressed I could help you pick out a new bra to show off for me. There are some things I need to pick up this morning." Yeah, condoms and foam so I could wake up with him tomorrow and stay in bed.

Boy, did we have fun! The last time I bought a bra I ran in to the store, grabbed the first couple that were my size and that was that. After all, the damn things were just something to keep my breasts from flopping. With no one in my life to appreciate the design or take it off of me it really didn’t matter.

We browsed through the rainbow colored selections, looking for something he would appreciate. I took rather sedate black bra off the hook and held against me.

"What do you think? Is this too plain for your taste?"

He looked surprised. I guess he had never been asked to comment on a bra in public before.

"I know just what you would like to do with this, don’t I?" I took another one off the rack, this one with a plunging neckline and a very thin strap.

"Maybe this is more to your taste. Sexy enough for you?"

I spun around holding it to my breasts, and caught a glimpse of the sales clerks. They seemed to be enjoying the show so I took down a lacy red underwire number.

"I bet you can’t wait to get into this one, but you’re going to have to wait until we get home! Maybe you’d like this little thing here. See, Velcro! It’s easy to get on… and off."

This was all kinds of fun. With just the right phrasing I could invite him to try on the bra while the clerks naturally assumed I would be the intended wearer. I went over to the counter, prospective purchases in hand.

"If there’s no one in the changing room, is it OK if my friend helps me try these on?"

That got a good laugh, but they said yes. It was a tight fit, but once inside the booth I pulled off his shirt and helped him put the first one on. A perfect fit, too bad we didn't have anything to fill the cups. I was surprised at how sexy it felt to put my arms around him and hook up his bra. Very stimulating for both of us, especially when he tried on the matching panties. I reached inside the waistband and gave him a couple of strokes and once again he began to grow for me.

I couldn't believe how wanton I had become over this stranger, but here I was behaving like a giddy teenager. I skinned off my own shirt and invited him to unsnap my bra so I could try on one myself. We spent some time trying the rest of the clothes on and gathered our purchases. Did it surprise the clerk that we paid separately, and that each of us bought a matching bra and panty set in different sizes? If it did she was professionally oblivious, but I wondered what they would be saying after we left.

On the way back I picked up a tube of foam and a pack of condoms at the drugstore, ducked into at my place where I threw a few things into a bag and then went to his apartment. I was feeling pretty proud of myself, an assertive woman in charge of the situation and getting just what I wanted. I suppose it served me right when, once we entered his apartment, he appropriated the dominant role.

We had some slippery fun sharing a shower in preparation for our lingerie, then he offered to shave my legs. Shave my legs? Good grief, I wasn’t sure if this was the most romantic thing I had ever heard or he was a complete wacko! He ran his hands slowly down my thighs and my resistance vanished.

"I’m yours, do with me as you will. Command me and I will obey, noble sir!"

He filled the tub with bubbles and ushered me in. If you have never had someone caress your legs while spreading shaving cream over them you are missing one of life’s premier experiences. His strong hands slid over my leg until it was coated with white foam, then with sure strokes he skillfully plied the blade, curls of foam skating beside the razor as he swiftly denuded my legs one after the other. A squirt of cream, a dexterous swipe and my underarms were smooth.

Now it was his turn, and it was almost as much fun to shave him as it was to be shaved. First the legs, then the pits, then squirt, swish and the arm hair was gone. He did his own face, so I watched fascinated as he methodically cleared his cheeks, worked down the neck and even shaved his chest. I hadn’t realized just how much work it took for a man to look like a woman. In the stories it seemed so easy and simple. He was grinning as he applied some magic potion to his face.

We retired to the bedroom where he pulled out a drawer and took out a roll of surgical tape.

"There’s an old saying: ‘Those who love sausage and law would do well not to watch either being made.’ Mark Twain, I think. That goes for transforming me into something like a woman. Well, here goes."

He pulled off a length of tape and proceeded to squeeze his pecs together and tape them in place. Ouch! A second strip and there was a distinct furrow in his chest. He deftly wrapped the bra around himself and snapped the hooks together. With a practiced gesture he spun the bra so the clasp was in back, shrugged his arms through the straps and settled it in place. From another drawer he, or maybe I should start saying ‘she’ at this point, removed a pair of breast forms. She handed me one and I curiously held the shimmering object. It wiggled with a life of its own, quivering in my hand, growing swiftly warm. I pulled back the cup of her bra and dropped it in, where it was quickly joined by its twin. They settled at the bottom of the cups and Darlene now had a modest cleavage. Amazing! With a rueful grin she inserted two thin pads behind the breast forms.

"Whoever said ladies don’t sweat never had to wear breast forms on a summer day. I love wearing a bra, but it doesn’t feel so good when it’s soaked and dripping. I made the pads myself, they help keep things under control"

Next came an odd garment, which I found out was a cincher. Pulling the strings tight, my new friend gained a more feminine figure. Once more to the drawers for stockings and garters. I had never even seen a garter with my own eyes, let alone someone wearing one! Seeing my look of surprise he told me they were much easier on his balls than pantyhose. Next the new panties, and a voluminous half skirt that made her look like she had hips.

I was amazed at the contents of closet. From the ratty bra I had expected to see a collection of castoffs and thrift store specials. Instead I was treated to a dazzling array of clothes ranging from prim pantsuits to ball gowns, peasant blouses to summer frocks. In deference to the sunny day, she brought out a white flowered sundress for herself and handed me a beautifully embroidered peasant blouse. Holding up two skirts she gave my choice. Laying them on the bed and picked up my new bra.

"I know the clothes are a bit big, but they should look pretty good on you. Oh, yeah. I go by ‘Darlene’ when I dress this way."

That last was said in a new voice. It wasn’t all that different than his normal speaking voice, but there was something indefinably feminine about it.

"I think that all the hours of voice coaching were worth it, weren’t they? When I started to go out in public I realized I had to learn to speak more like the woman I portrayed or pretend to be deaf."

I stood there bemused as she slid my bra over my arms and secured it behind my back. I lay on the edge of the bed and she threaded my panties over my toes, then rolled my pantyhose over my newly shaven legs. She sat me down at the makeup table, pulled back my hair and set to work with moisturizers, lotions and powders. I don’t usually do much with makeup. It was truly strange to have someone painting my face, but I really enjoyed it. When at last I opened my eyes I was amazed. It didn’t really look like I was wearing makeup, but my face glowed, my lashes were long and luxurious and I was very different from my usual self. With comb, brush and curling iron she stroked my hair to a lustrous sheen and fixed it with a gorgeous carved, wooden butterfly pin.

Shooing me out of the chair my new lover started in on herself, explaining about beard cover and the tricks she employed. Her makeup was more obvious than mine, but still not garish. Settling a mass of soft, brown curls over head she made a quick strokes of the brush and an unremarkable woman stood before me, ready for an afternoon walk in the park. Slipping on a pair of soft flats she turned to me.

From a massive jewelry box she extracted two earrings. They were long and dangling, almost like miniature wind chimes. With a kiss she slipped them into my ears, then encircled my arm with several jangling bracelets. For herself she selected modest gold hoops and a green stone that dangled in her cleavage. Lifting the sundress over her head she wriggled into it.

"Not bad, don’t you think? If you don’t get dressed before we leave I think I could guarantee no one would look at me, but it might be a bit difficult on you."

So it was I found myself walking in the park with my girlfriend. We strolled, rode the merry-go-round, sat on the park bench and talked, perfectly ordinary things that seemed special today. As we sat on the bench, an older couple kept glancing at us curiously.

"You get used to curious people when you go out dressed up," Darlene said in a low voice. "I usually just ignore them but today I feel like giving them a show."

With that she leaned over and kissed me full on the lips. The old couple weren’t the only ones to be surprised, but as her tongue slid between my lips I returned the kiss with enthusiasm. Nothing to worry about, folks, just two brazen dikes making out in public. I felt a shameless, wanton hussy and I loved every lingering minute of that kiss! The couple was retreating rather swiftly when we broke from our embrace. Holding hands we strolled in the opposite direction, enjoying the warm afternoon in the park. There was an occasional curious glance at Darlene, but she was so comfortable in her role, so utterly unremarkable that no one paid us any serious attention.

"So, girlfriend", I asked, "want to go to a movie? Do you get into Chick Flicks when you’re dressed up or do you secretly want to watch someone blow up a building and race away in a sporty little car with half of California in hot pursuit?"

"Lord preserve me from either! Do you have any idea what would happen to my makeup if I started to cry? Nothing sloppy, and even as Don I wouldn’t go to one of those asinine shoot-em-up clinkers. Actually I was planning so go down to the dollar movies and see the "Pink Panther" before I met you."

I knew right then it had to be fate. Anyone who gets off on Peter Sellers is all right with me. We had such a good time that we didn’t even mess around in the dark, but watched the movie and hissed "I love this next bit!" at each other to the annoyance of our fellow movie buffs. Afterward, we ate at a little café near the theater, still recounting our favorite scenes from the Panther movies.

"You know," I said to Darlene, "I never did ask, but I hope I haven’t ruined your plans for the weekend."

"You may lead to my ruination if we keep this up, but other than the movie all I had in mind was to dress up and sit in front of my computer and play on the net. You, my dear, are a most refreshing surprise in my otherwise humdrum life!"

"Go ahead and pile it higher! I don’t believe a word of it, but keep it up for a while longer. I have to visit my family tomorrow, but until then what are we going to do?"

"I hate to bring us back to reality, but I think I’ve had enough time with this cincher squeezing me. Us part time women have a constant struggle between beauty and reality, you know.

We returned to his apartment and I let her get through the door of her bedroom before I attacked. Standing behind Darlene I cupped her breasts in my hands, pressing my own against her back. It was the oddest sensation, knowing I held a man who could drive me wild with pleasure, yet I had spent the day with him my girlfriend. I lowered my hand to pinch her rear, but the padding defeated me.

Let's just say that Darlene is as good a lover as Don, even if my sample size was too small to conduct a definitive survey. Darlene finally had the chance to loosen the cincher we had come here to remove and, unloading her bra she slowly peeled the surgical tape from her chest and sighed.

"Free at last. Free at last. Lord Almighty, free at last."

With a couple of activists for parents I had heard that line all my life, but never is such a context. She settled the bra back in place and returned the forms before laying down beside me. I lay there with her warmth beside me, in a pleasant postcoital fog, when the surreal quality of the whole situation suddenly struck me.

"So that’s what its like to be screwed by a guy in a dress." I mused. "You know, I had some very sexy fantasies about you, but this sure wasn’t one of them."

"Well, to tell the truth I had only fantasized about doing it while wearing a dress. You sure know how to make a dream come true. It was just as good as I had wanted it to be. You know, I almost didn’t want to do it because I was afraid you would freak or something would go wrong and we would end up hating each other."

"I know what you mean. I was a little scared too, but I’ve wanted to get you into bed for quite a while and it really didn’t matter what you were wearing. In fact, after spending the afternoon with you as my girlfriend I was getting very curious as to what would happen. It’s not like I’ve had a parade of lovers, but I never thought I’d meet a man who would use a condom without being asked, let alone thinking of the foam while he was getting ready to fuck. I usually have to sneak off and put it in beforehand and hope he isn’t going to want to eat me. It’s kind of sexy to have you do it without even being asked."

"All part of our complete service package, madam. Would you care to join me in the shower? Sleeping in makeup is not a good way to start a relationship, you know. Also, if you act now I will provide, free of charge, a toothbrush and nightgown as part of our all inclusive, Gold Star Customer Service Plan. A free continental breakfast is included with the accommodations as well."

How could I refuse?

It had been some time since I roused with anyone in the bed with me. I came awake to the much loved feeling of an arm around me, then wiggled my ass a bit to let him know I was awake. Things were starting to get interesting when I caught a glimpse of the clock.

"Uh, Don…"

"Mmmmf"

"Darlene, honey? That feels awfully good but I uh…"

Awfully good hell, his cock was poking me right in the ass.

"I promised my folks that I would go to church with them this morning. It’s something I have to do once in a while to keep peace in the family. There’s some big event my mother is working on and I promised I would help her. "

"Ah, a beautiful woman and a dutiful daughter besides. Your parents must be so proud."

How did he get so damn hard so fast? It wasn’t fair!

"Don, I gotta get up. Now."

"Duty before pleasure, is it? Oh well, there’ll be other times." There was a cold place on my ass as he rolled away.

"You’re not mad, are you?"

"After the day you gave me yesterday, how could I be mad? You are the most wonderful person I have ever slept with, gone to the movies with or just plain had fun with."

"Pile it on, baby, pile it on. I love it." I did love it, but I had a question.

"Darlene? You want to go to church with me?

Silence.

More silence. I rolled over and looked at him.

"You really want me to go to church with you? As Darlene? And meet your parents?"

"Hey — they’re Unitarians, if they figured it out you would probably end up being drafted to teach a class in diversity or sensitivity or something. I’m sure you can do it, you were so natural yesterday. Besides, if I brought Don she’d have us engaged before the service finished and married off sometime around dinner. With a minister being so handy you could be in deep trouble. My mother doesn’t really approve of her thirty-something daughter being single, you know."

"Whew, that’s a relief. When a woman wants to introduce me to her parents after two days of acquaintance, no matter how intimate, it could get a fella worried."

"After that kiss on the park bench yesterday, maybe you’d better start worrying about a two bride ceremony. Can I pick out your dress if I let you pick out mine?" I could start working on the minister this afternoon and see just how liberal he is."

"Should I panic now, or wait until after breakfast? I haven’t been inside a church since I figured out choir robes weren’t really dresses. I have some grave doubts about the existence of the Lord and no real interest in resolving them.

"Then you’ll be right at home with the Unitarians. Please? I’m not much interested in church either, but sometimes you do things to make your parents happy. Besides, can you think or a better excuse to put on a dress?

"I’ve seen the light! Yes mistress. "I’m yours, do with me as you will. Command me and I will obey, noble lady!"

"You are an incorrigible smartass. Lend me a housecoat so I can run down to my place for something I can wear to church while you shave."

"Yes, mistress. Just look in the closet."

I snuggled into a blue terrycloth robe and picked up what I needed from my place, then gave my folks a call to warn them I was bringing a girlfriend. I just hoped that this crazy idea wouldn’t backfire!

Don had finished shaving when I returned and was ready to get dressed. I looked into his lingerie drawer and realized our shopping trip for a new bra had not really been necessary. The drawer held dozens of neatly folded bras in every color imaginable. He selected a simple white one with scalloped edges along the cups.

"Since we are going to church, I suppose I should be dignified and sedate. No cleavage today, I’ll wear something with a high neck and long sleeves." When I returned from my shower he was seated at the makeup table, clad in bra and panties, finishing the transformation.

"Do we have time for you to make me beautiful? You’re going to have to teach me how to makeup sometime, I never really cared enough to learn all the tricks, but my mother will be thrilled if I show up looking like her idea of a proper lady."

I sat down and he worked magic on my face once again. When I was done to his satisfaction we got dressed. I wore one of the two ‘Church Dresses’ I owned, a simple deep green with no ornamentation. He chose a white blouse with ruffled collar and sleeves, along with a charcoal gray skirted suit. Simple blue studs for earrings, a pendant that swung above the lacework of his bra where it showed through the blouse and a small gold watch completed the ensemble, or so I thought. I laughed as he took down a silly little veiled hat, complete with feathers in the brim, from the closet shelf.

"A proper lady wears a hat to church, you know. I’m glad you finally gave me an excuse to wear this thing. I never had the nerve before."

We arrived at the church just as the service was starting. We slid into seats just behind my folks and they smiled a greeting just as the prelude ended. Darlene surprised me with a creditable alto voice on the hymns, and unhesitatingly joined in on the responsive readings. The time came for greeting you neighbors. Darlene got quite a surprise when my father kissed her and every other lady within reach.

After the service my mother enthusiastically approved of my makeup and delicately fished for all the details of Darlene’s life and my relationship to her. Her curiosity satisfied (for them moment), she launched a long monologue describing the day’s activities. She was the chair of a fundraising lunch for some worthy cause, the details of which I will compassionately spare you.

"Jennifer, darling, I need you and your friend to sell tickets. You can set up a table in front of the door and be sure to catch everyone coming in."

I bet you’ve been curious about my name, after all I haven’t used it so far. I figured this story was about Darlene, and I didn’t want to upstage her. That isn’t going to work any more, because for the next two hours every soul in that church was shouting my name and expecting me to come to the rescue. It almost felt like an escape to settle in at the ticket table. Darlene and I lugged a table to the door, covered it with a gay tablecloth and covered the tablecloth with flyers, prizes, tickets and flowers. Satisfied with her work, Darlene sat next to me to await our first customer.

"Jenny, you have a positive genius for finding quiet, out of the way places that a crossdresser can frequent without fear of being spotted. How can I ever thank you enough for the invitation to church?"

"Well, let’s see, when we get back you could fix me an egg, you know one of the kind that has the little wire coming out of it. I have a notion I could provide a nice warm place for it to bake for a while. I like them done with lots of butter in the pan, so they slide around real easy. While the egg is baking I bet I could knead your bread until it rises. Oh, Hello Mrs. Johnson, how lovely of you to come today."

"Pleased to meet you Mrs. Johnson, I’m Jenny’s friend Darlene. We were just talking about the wonderful baked goods we have in the hall. I’ve found our Jenny has a particularly good hand at yeast products. Can I interest you in a raffle ticket, I just know there’s a very good chance for a big score in our little game today."

Mrs. Johnson took her leave.

"I’m pleased you like my recipe for baked eggs, they’ve been a favorite of mine for years. One egg can be a treat, but baking two of your favorite eggs in adjacent ovens is an experience to be savored. I particularly enjoy eating while the eggs bake, you know."

"What a lovely menu you have planned. I think I would enjoy providing a meal like that. I think I might be able to supply a very private stock of freshly made juice. You don’t suppose I could serve some sausage with the eggs?

"Julia Child couldn’t have created a more perfect menu. A little meat for breakfast can be quite tasty, or so I’m told. I’ve never had anyone serve it for me, I’ve usually had to make do with plastic food for myself."

"Oh, you poor thing, how did you manage before you met me?"

"Hello Mr. Burke, Mrs. Burke. You can get your tickets from me and Darlene has raffle tickets only three for $5.00."

Why did these annoying people keep interrupting us?

"Plastic food, I’m, surprised"

"Well, I usually savor a purely natural approach to cuisine, but for these very private repasts I wouldn’t consider anyone but a willing female in the kitchen."

"Well, I’m a pretty good cook, if I do say so myself. I do have a bit of sausage in my larder that I sample from time to time. Perhaps we could share it when we get home?"

"I have some in my larder too. I would think that most women would prefer a fatter sausage than I do. I’m afraid I don’t have a full size double oven. Have you ever served sausage for company before? There are so few chiefs with the patience to make it properly. The bowl requires a good bit of preparation, you know. Like a good dough it must be stretched gradually, with plenty of oil, until it is firm and elastic. You have to be very careful not to burn your sausage in the oven, so you have to take it out and put it back in rather frequently."

"That sounds like a very complicated recipe. Tell me, how do you know when your sausage is done?"

"Simplicity itself, my darling. A natural sausage will start to water when it’s ready to take out. If you’re using a substitute a signal from the oven will tell you."

The door opened and several people came in. Darlene coaxed them into buying raffle tickets while I handed out the flyers. At last we were alone again.

"It seems this is my weekend to have any number of new experiences. I just hope we can get through this afternoon without being found out. I’m ready for some good home cooking, and I’m not talking about the spaghetti dinner in the church kitchen!"

"I’m getting a bit ravenous myself, but I hope my skirt is hiding it. Jenny, my love, about all I have done in public was go to some crossdresser’s meetings or take a walk in the park on a quiet day. I never would have had the nerve to do something like this without your encouragement."

"You mean if I hadn’t dragged you here to protect me from my mother. If you weren’t here I’d probably be stuck doing dishes in the kitchen by now. My mother would never ask a guest to wash the dishes so we got the cushy spot here at the door. I have to say I feel rather smug she hasn’t figured out what’s going on, I never could keep a secret from her.

I had hardly finished speaking before the subject of the conversation appeared. At last my mother considered my penance to be complete and we were able to leave. The ride back seemed endless. We practically sprinted down the hall and headed directly for the bedroom. Darlene opened the drawer in her night table.

"I do have a few little toys to choose from. See anything you like?"

As I bent to look I felt the zipper of my dress being pulled down. I shivered as her lips started down my backbone, leaving a trail of tingling until they reached the bottom of the zipper. I stood up and shrugged out of the dress. Immediately I felt her hands caress my ass, sliding gently over my panties and down my thighs. I felt a pressure on my back as her breasts pressed into me, and a delicious warmth as she began to nibble my ear.

Mmm… how am I supposed to choose when you do that to me? Here’s my little egg, all ready to be cooked. Is this the sausage you were talking about?"

"Just warming up the oven Jenny. Yes, that’s my sausage and if you dig a little you’ll find the straps that came with it."

Before I could look her hands lifted my breasts, supporting them gently, pressing them into my body with slow, sensuous squeezes. This time she nibbled my other ear. With an effort of will I broke away and found the strap, setting it on the night table.

"Aren’t you a bit overdressed for the occasion? It’s going to get very hot in here in the next few minutes. I started to unbutton the coat of her suit and removed it. Opening the closet I hung it and my dress on the rack.

"This is kind of fun. I’ve never wanted to take a skirt off someone before,."

Suiting actions to words I dropped her skirt to the floor and offered her a hand as she stepped out of it. There was a noticeable bulge in her panties. Another trip to the closet and I started on the buttons of the blouse, which soon joined the rest of the suit. We stood looking at each other in the bright light of afternoon. Why was I so turned by a man clad only in bra, panties and gartered stockings. Had it only been a day since we had first made love? I dropped my panties, shucked my pantyhose and lay on the bed.

"Are you going to stand there or are you going to start cooking?"

I have never been so reluctant to have a weekend end. It had been a vacation from reality, a completely new and exciting experience. We cleaned up and I spent the rest of the evening with Don, getting to know that side of the personality.

Where would this lead? Who knew back then. We were both busy people, but I knew after that first weekend together I wanted to make time for two new people in my life.