A Late Christmas Surprise

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Two days after Christmas and I was starting to get bored. Another week before I had to return to work and I didn’t have anything to do.

All the Christmas Day detritus was put away on the 26th. My visitors left the same day as well and now the place is quiet.

Nothing worth watching on TV that seems to consist of nowt but a load of cheesy American Christmas films and most of them had been being shown dozens of times since the end of September. Even that old stalwart, ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ had been broadcast on the 24th so that was long gone.Even 'A Boy in a Dress' was on last night.

The shops are full of people spending money they don’t have in the pursuit of some instant gratification but the weather is crap so there is no way I’m going to join them. At least my home is nice and warm.

I sigh as I open my laptop and begin surfing my favourite sites. I soon end up a recently re-designed TG site and begin to read a story or two.

Most of the Serials are so well established that I’d have to spend hours if not days or weeks catching up so I head for the ‘singles’ section.

Ten minutes later I give up in disgust.

I think to myself, why to writers make such a thing of the man and hair removal? As soon as I see this scene developing I stop reading. Are they totally bereft of original story ideas or do they see it as some right of passage? It bores me to tears so I just stop reading there and then.

The afternoon light is starting to go now. I switch on one of my own and with calls of ‘Bah Humbug’ ringing in my ear, I pull out the laptop again, open up Scrivenor and begin to write.

Saturday Mornings are ‘me’ time. I just potter around the house, do a little housework, make some bread if I feel like it. Some people call it chilling out. Well, duh, that is the idea isn’t it?

I normally don’t get dressed until lunchtime. When I get out of bed, I just pull on a jumper over my nightdress, slip into a pair of shoes that have a 2in heel and that’s it for the morning. Yes, I’m a man who likes to wear women’s clothes. If you don’t like that then stop reading now.

I feel relaxed as I drink my coffee and eat some rye bread toast in the kitchen. No TV. No Radio. No Newspapers, just peace and quiet plus the occasional crunch of me taking a bite.

There I am thinking that all was good in the world when my front door bell goes.

“Sod off,” I mentally say to them. This is my time. Besides there is no way I’m answering the door wearing a floor length nightdress, a pair of heels no matter what height and unshaven to boot.

The ringing continues. Then the flap to the letter box opens and a voice shouts.

“John. Can you answer the door. I know you are there. I’m locked out and I need to call my sister. She has a spare key.”

Oh shit. It is my recently moved in next door neighbour. I tried to remember her name and failed but she’s obviously remembered mine.

Resigned to the fact that I my cross-dressing habit is going to be exposed I somewhat wearily get up from the table and walk into the hallway.

Any hopes that I might have had that she would have given up were immediately dashed because I could see her through the frosted glass of my front door.

I opened the front door and let her in.

“Thanks, I is perishing cold out there,” she said as she hurried inside my nice and warm home.

“I…”

I just shook my head and closed the door behind her.

“Go through to the kitchen. My phone is in there.”

As I walked behind her I suddenly remembered her name. It was Ruth.

“Ruth, take a seat. I’ll pour you a cup of coffee.”

She sat down and smiled at me.

“Thanks.”

I handed her the phone and while she dialled, I poured her some Coffee.

“This is nice coffee,” she said once she’d talked to her sister.

I knew I was staring at her but who could resist? She was wearing a short almost transparent bed jacket over an equally see through ‘baby doll’ negligee. Her ample breasts bounced up and down as she walked.

“How did you get stuck outside?” I asked in a desperate attempt to take my eyes of her body.

“I was putting some rubbish out when the wind blew the bin lid away. As I went to retrieve it, the wind blew my door closed.”

Then she grinned.

“It is so nice to find that there is someone else like me in the building. It is going to be such fun now that there are two of us living next door to each other.”

All I could do was nod my head. Her manhood was also equally visible beneath the thin negligee.

[The End]

I saved the file as ‘A late Christmas Surprise’ with a smile on my face. Another short story penned and not a trace of hair remover in sight.

As I went upstairs to put on that new outfit that was my Christmas Present to myself, I started to feel that things were going to get a lot better in my little world. Instead of thinking ‘Bah Humbug’, I had a feeling that the New Year ahead would be a good one.

[Authors Note]
The comments in this story are purely my own.
Happy New Year to all authors and readers of this site.

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Comments

A nice post Christmas story

A really nice start to the post Christmas season, which I can so readily identify with. Well, apart from my neighbour getting locked outside under those particular conditions!

(It was just a shame they were both so hairy! If only they'd taken a little time to defoliate!)

nice story

But I mean "body hair" yuk! would look awful under a flimsy baby doll and you cant feel the lovely silky nylon as well with those microns of body hair in the way! thanks for the story x

Don't understand why anyone

Don't understand why anyone would want to wear female clothing, yet have an issue with removing hair from their body. Although thinking back about it, I did see MANY women in Paris, France in the 1960s and 1970s who had very hairy legs, yet were dressed 'to the nines". Always wondered about that as well. Further, many European women do not remove hair from their arm pits. So I guess 'to each their own', right?
It does sound that the lockout issue has helped to embellish a new, special relationship between new neighbors and possibly with the sister of new neighbor "Ruth".

going Hairless

The point I was trying to make was that there are many stories where the FIRST task given to the 'unfortunate' (or fortunate depending upon your POV) is to get hairless. It seems that it is almost a 'rite of passage' for the author to put this sometimes humiliating thing into the story as if to show (not that we didn't already know) that the female of the species is boss.
I just get rather sad at this repetition of what can be a humiliating act. It also can hurt or even burn your genetailia if too much cream is used. How many readers here have got the 'veet itch' the first time they used it?
There are a lot of us who do not remove our hair yet still wear women's clothing. I'm not 'out' to my friends and family who'd notice if I suddenly became hairless. But, hey each to their own.

As had been said, there are plenty of hairy women out there.

However, this was meant to be very much a 'tongue in cheek' story. I wrote it while I was sitting at my kitchen table on a Saturday Morning wearing... well, you can guess what. Just a bit of fun to brighten up these dark winter mornings.

Laser hair removal

Very early in my transition, I spent $7,500 and got all my hair removed except the hair on top of my hair. I was 57, so some of my facial hair was grey so it did not all come off. It was the best thing I ever did. Anyone that does it should avoid the malls but go to a plastic surgeon or a cosmetic clinician in a hospital. The mall folk can do more damage than good.

But you also left out

the part about how delicious it feels to roll those (fishnet of course) stockings up the legs and attach them to to the tabs on corset! Of course, all crossdressing men wear stockings and makeup to bed, right? :-)

Hugs
Carla

Hair removal hurts!

I spent $180 on my face using a Groupon coupon. Definitely worth it, but the hair really does eventually come back in a few years. Fortunately it is a lot finer and grey. And yes, I lay on that table for my 6 sessions and writhed in pain.

But it is nothing compared to Electrolysis. I think I cracked a rib holding my sides during a session. I explained this to my Doc/endocrinologist and got some hydro-codon pills for future sessions. It is permanent, but it takes a large number of sessions to get it done. No fun at all.

E3000 uses shots to help kill the pain. Of course they also hurt like hell, and leave your face a mass of bruises. Some of the things we go through to transition are not for the faint of heart.

LOL!

LOL at the ending and thanks for poking fun at the "as John pulled up the silky tights up his smooth legs he jizzed into his lace panties" trope which seems to show up in every other story :)

That was the whole idea. You

That was the whole idea. You don't need to go through those ritual and humiliations to make a decent story. Thanks for the comment.