Tranford Tales - Alice

CHAPTER 1

I fell in love at the age of eighteen. We both did, but it took ages for us to understand it. Her name is Denise, but always known as Dennie. Mine is Roy.

She was in the next room when I arrived at university. We introduced ourselves, and she said "By the way, I'm a lesbian, so don't get the wrong idea."

I laughed and said "I like girls as well, so we can be mates!"

She laughed as well, and from that moment we were mates. I mean really. Apart from not having sex, we were the ideal couple, and were often together. We were on the same course, and liked many of the same things. We often went to student films or the cinema together. We ate together, studied together. She had girlfriends, and introduced them to me. When I knew or thought they were going to have sex, I was happy for her, and thought about them as I sat and wanked in my room. I comforted her when they broke up, giving her a hug.

She gave me a kiss on my birthday, when we parted for vacations, and eventually as a greeting when we came back. Not a snog, just a friend kiss.

In the second year we shared a flat with separate bedrooms, and went to a festival where we shared a borrowed tent. I told my parents I had a regular girlfriend, but not really serious, and anyway we would go our own ways after graduating. By this time, she was really dressing butch - not the sort of girl my parents would be pleased to see brought home. She was having short-lived relations with the sort of girl my parents would be pleased to see for me, so it must have worked. She told me she wasn't looking for a keeper just yet, if ever, just some fun.

Meanwhile I was still a virgin. But I was sure I wasn't the only one. Best to get the degree before worrying about it. Meanwhile I had the best friend and study partner I could wish for. Maybe getting involved with a girl for sex would be a distraction. (At least that's what I told myself, since I couldn't see any way of achieving it. Dennie's female friends were not an option.)

Then my sister Helen (older) was going to get married, and Mum and Dad invited me and Dennie. I told her I could say she was ill, or having to attend some special course.

"Are you mad?" she answered.

"I love a wedding! All those women dressed up to the nines! And I'd love to meet your family. I promise I won't embarrass you."

CHAPTER 2

She was as good as her word. She turned up at the hotel in a skirt, and had a nice dress and silly hat for the wedding. Her hair was short, but was discreetly tinted and looked nice. I scarcely recognised her in makeup!

My parents had booked a double room for us, but it was with twin beds, so I knew there wouldn't be a problem.

I could scarcely recognise my sister, either, but she looked wonderful in a classic bridal outfit, lots of lace, big skirt, veil, and train. It all went without a hitch, and the weather was OK. Dad and the Best Man got their speeches pretty well right, and no-one was injured cutting the cake. The bride and groom had the first dance, then everyone joined in. Dennie took my arm, and drew me to the door. In the corridor outside she whispered to me.

"All those bridesmaids have got me really hot. I'm going to our room to diddle myself. Wanna come along?"

"You what?" I said, though I had understood.

"Come on," she said, taking me by the hand.

In the lift she added "You can watch me masturbate, if you want. Clear enough?"

I didn't know what to say, but went with her.

In the room she took off her shoes and hat, washed her hands, and took off her panties. I looked agog.

"Wet through," she said, with a grin, dropping them in the bath.

"Now I'm going to do it anyway, but I thought you might like it. You can toss yourself off as well, if you want. We're best friends, aren't we?"

She took off her dress and hung it carefully, and directed me to sit on one bed. She sat opposite in just her bra, and closed her eyes. She had a neat triangle of dark hair where she put her hand.

"I suggest you drop your pants and get your tool out. It's up to you, but I certainly shan't be looking."

My cock was already hard, but I hesitated, as she got on with it.

She licked her fingers and started slowly fingering her slit, with a little smile on her face.

"Go on," she said, opening her eyes for a moment.

I'd been frozen, but my cock was already rising, so I undid my belt and zip, pulled my trousers down, then my underpants and sat on the bed opposite.

I'd never seen anything so wonderful. She was soon writhing a little and her mouth was moving, as if she was saying something, probably a name. Then she was moving more and groaning a little while her fingers moved in more complicated ways. I was surprised to see how fast and hard she went as she was finally going for it.

Meanwhile, my hand and cock had been on automatic. I hadn't thought about it, but now I realised I was coming myself, and my trousers were round my ankles. I half rose in panic, and said "Oh no!" as she said "Oh yes!"

Fortunately, the first spurt went far enough to miss my trousers and I was able to catch the rest, moving awkwardly with small steps to the box of tissues on the bedside table, as she sank back in pleasure and satisfaction, her hand still on her pussy.

I wiped myself sufficiently clean to be able to take my shoes and then my trousers off, and went in an undignified way to the bathroom. When I got back, she was sitting smiling, holding a tissue on herself. She got up, and stopped before the bathroom and turned.

"How was it for you, darling?" she said jokily. I didn't answer, so she continued.

"Well, we've had sex together at last. And was that a simultaneous orgasm?"

She came out of the bathroom with her makeup perfect, nonchalantly put on some fresh panties, and her dress. I'd already put on the underpants I had brought for tomorrow.

She looked me up and down, went and got a comb, and fixed my hair. Neither of us said anything. We went back to the reception, holding hands and Dad gave me a big wink.

It must have been the champagne.

That night we were both lying in our separate beds in our separate pyjamas, and the talking had dried up.

Then I said what I'd been thinking.

"Dennie, I love you. I wish we could get married."

I heard a chuckle.

Then she said "OK, but you'll have to be the bride!"

It must have been the champagne. I told her my deepest darkest secret.

When my sister was seven, she got a special dress for her birthday, like a princess, all gauze and sequins, and she loved it. She often wore it at home until she grew out of it.

When it was my seventh birthday, I was given a Spiderman outfit. I had a tantrum then cried buckets. Somehow, I had expected to get a princess dress when I was seven. It was my sister who saved the day by going and getting hers from the wardrobe, and helped me to put it on. Mum and Dad were perplexed.

They all told me I shouldn't tell others or boys would laugh at me, so I only went out in the Spiderman outfit. But I loved that dress at home, though after a couple of weeks I made sure Dad never saw me in it. I still kept it in my room even after I'd grown out of it. It only went when we moved house.

CHAPTER 3

We went back to our previous life. Dennie either had sex with girls or masturbated in her bedroom. I had sex with myself, but mainly thinking about her. I tried porn, but all I wanted were girls who looked exactly like her. Eventually I got the courage to ask her for a photograph.

She looked thoughtful.

"So you can toss yourself off to it?"

I opened my mouth to say, "No, of course not," but just looked down and whispered "well, yes."

"Well, in that case, how can I refuse?"

She hugged me and kissed me.

She said "I'm sorry I don't want cock, but I'm very fond of you, and I'm glad if you can enjoy yours until you get a nice cunt and a pair of tits of your own. I'll see what I can do."

Next time she visited home, she came back with a nice portrait.

Actually, I wanked less and less - only when my body really needed it. I just had the picture on my desk while I studied, and looked at it last thing before switching off the light.

We got on with our studies and started looking for jobs when we graduated. We both applied to many of the same companies. Getting close to the end of the degree, we went together to one which looked particularly good, and were pleased with how the assessment and interviews went. There were six other applicants, so this was the first round

She was the one who got a second interview, and I wished her well.

She came back looking pleased, but maybe a bit nervous.

"They offered me a job," she said, "subject to 2.1 honours, of course."

I hugged and kissed her. It had been too much to hope that we would both get a job at the same place.

There was something about her face.

"But?" I asked. "You didn't turn it down?"

"Not exactly. I said I wasn't sure, if you didn't have a job there as well. I said we were going to be married."

I was flabbergasted.

"You what?"

"I told them were getting married. I mean you did ask me; I just haven't answered. Everybody lies at job interviews."

"I'm supposed to be thinking about it, and getting back to them."

Next day I got an email asking me to come to a second interview.

They're not allowed to ask questions about relationships, but there was a casual remark "did I know Denise?" to which I said we live together. (We have the same postal address!)

The final outcome was "We'll let you know."

I definitely got the impression they wanted her enough that they might take me on if I wasn't too bad.

A week later there were two letters. One for her asking her if she had made her decision, and asking for a prompt response. One for me offering me a position (subject to 2.1 honours) and asking for a prompt response. We both said yes.

And to celebrate she said I could see her masturbating again. We were both standing completely naked this time, and she hugged me. For the first time a naked woman right against me.

"Ugh, take that away from me," she said, half joking, but I think half serious, as she pushed me back.

"You can feel my tits for a minute, if you like, then we'll get on with it."

She lay down and started.

Oh God, it was wonderful!

She had her eyes closed, so I leaned forward, keeping my eager cock away, and kissed her. She accepted it, then pushed me away firmly, and lay down.

This time I was prepared, with tissues to hand. She hadn't got to her climax when I did. She opened her eyes to see me bucking hard in her direction, and struggling to catch the great globs.

When I'd stopped, she smiled, closed her eyes, and carried on. I wasn't sure if it was a multiple orgasm or several close together, but it was wonderful to see and hear.

I couldn't help myself. I was so glad for her pleasure, I said "I love you!"

Afterwards, we had a mug of cocoa together.

She had something to say.

"You know men don't turn me on?"

I nodded.

"In fact, I think cocks and spunk are ridiculous and a rather disgusting, so I could never fuck. And in case you think with my girlfriends we use dildoes on each other, we don't. We just enjoy women."

"But you know, when you said you loved me, it was rather touching, and I sort of get it. I wouldn't like to see any other man tossing himself off, but I'm sort of glad I saw you having an orgasm."

She paused.

"Maybe we can do this again."

And she kissed me.

CHAPTER 4

"Would you like to take me to a dance?" she asked on a break between studying.

I made some incoherent sounds.

"Only I really need a male partner, and I'd like it to be you."

"You mean the regular dance at the Student Union?"

"Not exactly. It's the XYZ drag ball, so you'd have to be in a dress."

(XYZ was the student gay, lesbian, trans etc society instead of adding more and more letters to LGBT...)

"What!? I can't!"

"Of course you can! Drag is a joke. No-one will think you're gay or anything. It's just one night. It'll be like you're seven again with your kind sister."

"Anyway, I've sorted the costumes, and I won't get the deposit back."

I protested, but the time came nearer, and eventually the costumes arrived. I was to be Alice (in Wonderland) and she was to be the Mad Hatter. She simply had a man's suit with a crazy collar and a large top hat with a price ticket. I had a blue dress with a pinafore and a blonde wig. It was a little girl so there was no bra, but there was a slip and petticoat which gave the dress volume and reminded me strongly of the princess dress.

(See Magic Dress - Robin for more about this XYZ drag ball)

I grumbled, but put it on. I tried not to show it, but I felt a little like my seven-year-old self. And with the full outfit I felt something strange - a combination of worry but also satisfaction. I had shaved well, and she gave me some makeup like a little girl in a storybook with pink cheeks. No eyeliner or shadow, but my eyelashes darkened, and some very light pink lipstick. White stockings. I wore it for most of a day to practise.

Next day, after lectures, she insisted on taking me to a big cheap shoe shop to get some black Mary Jane style shoes. Just a huge room in which you selected and tried on shoes yourself, then took them to the desk where a bored woman scanned them and your bank card. Few other customers and no-one taking any interest in us. Not in costume, of course, but we found some that fitted. I protested about the unnecessary expense. Our parents weren't rich, so we tried to manage with the student loan and some part-time work. She had refused to tell me what it cost to rent the costumes.

"I'm not doing it for you; I'm doing it for me. Your trainers are disgraceful, and thirty pounds is nothing for women's shoes. Obviously, they're low quality, but they don't have to last long."

I spent some time in the dress and shoes each day until the day of the dance.

To my relief, I was unremarkable. The theme was Wonderland, so I was not the only man in an Alice costume, and there were plenty much worse or much better than me in looking like a woman. The male toilets had an extra sign "Chix with Dix welcome" while the female ones had "Males without Tails welcome."

Apart from being in a dress, I had a good time, dancing with the woman I loved, and talking with some other people. I got some compliments, and gave some out. Apparently, some sexual activity was taking place in the chill-out rooms, but we steered clear. According to the student newspaper, someone called The Red Queen was involved.

The top hat was the most awkward thing for dancing, so she took it off and put it in the cloakroom, but it wasn't there when we went to collect it.

Afterwards we walked back to the flat, appreciating the cool air, and holding hands. I felt really happy.

"You know, I quite fancy you in a dress," she remarked and kissed me on the lips. I didn't know what to answer, so said nothing.

"How did you like being in a dress?" she said as we were nearly to the door, and I had to think.

"You liked it, didn't you?"

"Well, sort of. I mean it's just a laugh. I mean it was fun."

"Hmm," she said a she unlocked the door.

"Bags I the shower first!"

She was quickly out of her shoes, and clothes, then helped me out of my clothes, putting the wig on a stand, the socks, and underwear in the wash, and hanging up the dress.

I was too tired to lust, but looked at her naked and thought how lovely she looked.

"I'm too knackered to do anything else, but you can watch me shower, if you want to," she said as she headed to the bathroom to clean her teeth. She had very little makeup on so, it was only a moment's wipe before she stepped in the shower. I cleaned my teeth then just watched her soaping herself. It wasn't a display, just a woman cleaning herself, but it was so nice to see.

"Just do my back and bum," she said, switching off the shower, opening the door and handing me the shower gel.

A little bemused, I spread it over and thought of how it must be routine for a husband and wife.

She rinsed off, stepped out and grabbed a towel, so I went in. She also soaped my back, which felt delightfully domestic.

When I got out, she was in her pyjamas, but holding up a nightdress. It was very pale blue cotton with cornflowers on it and some decoration round the top.

"Don't argue, Alice," she said, "just try it on. If you don't like it, have your pyjamas."

I did, and it felt nice. She gave me a good night kiss and we went to our separate rooms, where I had a wonderful sleep, and dreamt about being in a dress, waking up later than usual.

When I got up, she was already up and had had her breakfast. It was Saturday, so no lectures. We usually did household tasks and shopping. I had breakfast in my nightie.

"You can wear the dress whenever you want... if you want," she said casually.

I was surprised.

"Don't you have to return it?"

"No, I didn't actually rent it. It was a gift to you. Sorry if you don't like it. We can give it to a charity shop today, if you want to get rid of it."

"Right. And what about your kit?"

"It's all from charity shops, except the hat. That was made by a friend. I paid her, but not a lot. She'll be flattered someone thought it worth stealing."

My brain slowly realised what I should have said.

"Wow, so you bought the dress and nightie as a gift for me! That's so kind! Yes of course we'll keep them."

That brought a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

But would I wear them? I didn't know.

CHAPTER 5

It seemed OK to wear the nightdress, but I hesitated about the dress. Dennie didn't mention it.

It was a week later when she said quite casually "I was thinking of giving the Alice costume to a charity shop, if you don't want it. I'm sure someone will be pleased."

My look of alarm said everything, though I said "Er, not just yet, please."

It became my Sunday treat.

Was it a coincidence that on Sunday night I got to shoot great gobs of spunk as she worked herself to climax? Probably not. But who cares? I got to feel a bit like a princess and have sex at a distance with the woman I loved.

Meanwhile, exams got ever closer. Dennie hadn't gone out with a girl since the dance, and we just studied.

Some exams were OK, a couple were not, one was better than expected. We were both sure we had passed, but would we get 2.1 honours?

After the last exam, there was the obligatory drink with the rest of the class, and we all left to go to our parents for the results. It was odd being at home, and not seeing Dennie in the day.

The day came. Dennie emailed me to say she had got her 2.1! I sadly replied I had a 2.2.

Still, I emailed my transcript to the company as requested.

It was nearly a week before they replied that I could still have the job. I spoke to Dennie immediately and she said she had received confirmation straight away, but had delayed replying until I got my result. We both accepted, and confirmed with the place we would be renting. (Since they had been told we were going to get married, the company had suggested a 2-bed flat near to where we would be working. Naturally I had the smaller bedroom.)

There was graduation day where Dennie (as she put it) "dressed up as a girl," went back to our homes for time with our parents, then off to our new home and new life.

For our induction course, Dennie wore trousers and a little makeup - just a business-like woman. I had had a terrible time with Mum and Dad (mainly Mum) going round shops and trying on things to get the right level of 'smart casual.' Still, it seemed about right.

I also had new underwear, socks and pyjamas and anything else Mum thought I needed. Dennie had managed to smuggle the Alice costume through her parents, making sure they didn't see the size. She also brought the blue nightdress and a pink one, much more lacy and frilly. There were some panties to go with it.

"For a princess," she said, giving me a kiss on the nose. I blushed, but liked it.

The next weeks were getting to know the company, our workfellows, and the local area, plus reading up the company procedures and information.

And she bought me some packs of pretty panties. Eventually I was persuaded to wear them at work.

After about three months she found a girl to go out with. It lasted about three months.

One evening we were sitting watching TV (not so much homework in the real world,) and she said to me "Actually, I will."

"Will what?"

"Marry you."

"I, but, how...?"

"I've thought about it, and you're right. You love me and I love you, I was just afraid to say it. Apart from the sexual incompatibility, I think we're the perfect couple."

She paused to kiss me.

"If the offer's still open, of course."

She took both my hands in mine.

"I'll be the bride, of course, for the sake of our families, and the company. And I'll stop going with girls if you want it, that's how much you mean to me. Though I can't stop being a lesbian, that's just how I am. But really, even from the first year you were just my soulmate. If you'd been a girl, I would have told you."

Then she started crying.

That did it. I hugged and kissed her and we both cried together.

After a cup of tea with a tot of rum each, we had a more or less sensible conversation.

We agreed that if either of us found "the one" of the right sex, then we would divorce. Till then we would have an open marriage in which we would each be free to have sex with others.

I agreed to the last part, but was sure that would only mean her, but I wouldn't mind. Still, we were young and miracles could occur.

CHAPTER 6

Eight months later we were married in a hotel. To save money, my sister was glad to lend her wedding dress, as she was not likely to get married again in the near future. I expect it was adjusted. It was a perfectly ordinary secular marriage, with relatives from both sides, colleagues from work, some people from university. Mum and Dad were there, very pleased. Dennie's parents were there, looking somewhat surprised.

I think the only unusual thing was that I believe the bridesmaids were all former sexual partners of the bride, though in the usual sense, both of us were virgins.

We didn't have twin beds this time, just an extra-large double, called a king size, apparently. (Well, I didn't know they were called that. Everyone else seemed to.)

And I got a surprise.

As I helped her get undressed, she said something quite unexpected.

"You'd better fuck me tonight."

"What?"

I had hoped to fuck my hand at her, but not the actual thing.

"Consummate. Shag me. Stick your cock in my cunt move it in and out."

"But I thought you didn't want it?"

"As sex, it doesn't attract me. I might not enjoy it. But I really do want it with you, and now. That's why I've been taking the pills for three months. I want to make love to you!"

I said something incoherent, and she added

"It's consummation. Then we'll really be married."

Guess what? I couldn't get it up!

There was a naked woman lying invitingly on the bed, and my cock wouldn't rise.

"Don't worry," she said.

"There's no hurry. I'll diddle myself, and when you're ready, just plunge in."

So she did. But nothing happened. She wasn't doing it because she was excited by some woman, so she couldn't get going. I knew it was her being kind to me, but that's not the same as lust, and put me off. My cock stayed limp in my hand.

Eventually she stopped and I saw the tears begin to fall.

"I'm sorry I don't attract you," she said, gasping a little as she began properly crying.

"... but I do love you. I'm sorry!"

I went over and sat beside her, tears on my cheeks as well.

"I love you too," I said, putting my arm around her.

"More than anything else in the world."

I was going to say that it didn't matter, but her mouth was on mine, and we kissed desperately.

I don't quite know how it happened, but that kiss turned into something else - pure passion and longing for each other. Somehow we were on the bed, and I was on top. I remember the extreme joy of the moment I slipped into her for the first time.

Then we made love. I wasn't tenderly trying to please her, but somehow that urgent fuck was lovemaking. Thinking about it afterwards, I was just a male on automatic, fucking a cunt as hard as I could. But I knew I loved her and she was giving herself to me out of love not lust. She was making love to me, so it was lovemaking and very special.

In the morning, we flew to our holiday destination.

That evening, I got a surprise.

"OK, husband. Time to claim your marital rights."

I was a bit dumb. I thought yesterday had been all there was going to be.

"Fuck your obedient wife. You're on honeymoon, so it's expected."

"But, well... I don't know... you don't... I mean..." I stumbled incoherently.

"Jesus Christ on a bicycle!" she said, exasperated.

"I don't think I'm that unattractive. You're a man and I'm a woman who loves you. You've got a cock, I've got a cunt, and I really truly want you to fuck me!"

"Really?"

"For fuck's sake, yes! I'm begging you to fuck me. I'll wank you, I'll suck you, I'll dance naked, I'll cover myself in mayonnaise if you want. Anything at all to get it up and in me!"

"Get your kit off, for a start!" she suggested. So I did, and she did.

She quickly grabbed me, put her lips on mine, and her tongue in my mouth, put one of my hands on her breast and the other to her cunt, which felt wet. While one arm held me the other started teasing my cock and balls, which responded. When my cock was half hard, she pushed my hand away and rubbed my knob on her slit.

"Come on," she said, pausing the kissing, and easing me over to the bed, where she pushed me down onto my back, then mounted me.

"I love you!" she said as she started to move up and down.

"I love you too!" I said as I started to thrust upwards against her. She continued to work me until I came. She didn't, but gave a big satisfied grin, and gave me a big kiss, before grabbing some tissues, giving some to me and wiping herself.

As she lay down with a leg and arm over me, she said "There, that wasn't too difficult, was it?"

"How was it for you?" I asked, hesitantly.

"It was nice. You can do it any time, but I'd like you to do the work in future."

Over the rest of the honeymoon, I began to understand. It was pleasant for her, but not anything she actually craved. What gave her pleasure was seeing and feeling me enjoy it, so I should do that all I could in order to love her. We agreed it was also good if she gave herself an orgasm while I watched and wanked.

CHAPTER 7

After the honeymoon it was back to our flat, and work.

And learning domestic sex.

I didn't have any problem getting it up in order to fuck her two or three times a week. I learned how to fondle her, but she preferred me not to try too hard to please her. It was best with my affection and interest, that was all. During her periods she learned how to suck me off. It took a while, but she insisted on practising until she could do it well. I am sure she didn't enjoy it directly, but accepted that my pleasure satisfied her. Meanwhile I encouraged her to have as many orgasms as she wanted, with or without me.

She said that one day she would teach me how to make love to a woman like a woman. But how about exploring my feminine side again?

We were in city that was new to us, so we didn't get many visitors, so she encouraged me to wear a dress or nightdress when we were home.

Then one day, she said we should go out to dinner at a pub she had heard about. It was on the other side of the city and called the Tranford Arms. She wore trousers at work, but liked a dress or skirt when going out. I had a casual jacket with shirt and chinos.

It was pleasant pub with Lancashire specialities as a feature, but other pub staples. After our main courses we were deciding on desserts when Dennie whispered to me "Would you like to see a man in in a dress?"

"Where?" I asked, puzzled.

"All around you. I think more than half of the women here are men or used to be men."

I looked around, trying to seem as if I was admiring the place.

"Maybe one or two?" I whispered uncertainly.

"A couple are more obvious, but there are others. You might not be able to tell, but you can't fool a lesbian."

I hope we looked like we were whispering sweet nothings as she continued.

"The waitress for one. She's transgender. Definitely had work top and bottom. Great tits, actually. The two women together to your right, the one in green is a crossdresser, I think, while the one in blue is a woman, probably the wife. Then the woman sitting with man behind me, look like husband and wife, but the wife used to be a man. Over by the bar there's a couple, a man who used to be a woman, and a woman who used to be a man. The two old ladies in the corner are two old men who haven't shaved lately."

"So you see, this is a place where you could come in a dress and nobody would notice, or if they did, they wouldn't care."

I was astounded.

"But how come?"

"I read about it a few weeks ago. The estate was started by a few transgender people who wanted to live a quiet life as ordinary men and women, and they've got quite a few. It's not limited to them. Anyone can come here, but it's mostly couples who are a bit unconventional in gender roles. I was thinking we might move here eventually, then you could wear dresses and be Alice all you like, if it would make you happy."

There was only one thing to say in answer.

"I love you so much!"

We started going to the pub most weeks, and got to know some of the people. Eventually Dennie persuaded me to take the plunge. In a new dress, with makeup which took nearly an hour, I left our flat in a hooded raincoat, without meeting a neighbour, and Dennie drove us to the pub, where the warmth of the greeting embarrassed me. A couple we'd talked to before asked to join us, and told us their story. Eventually there were several we knew, including transgender and crossdressing ones.

As a husband and wife with good jobs with prospects, there was no difficulty in getting a mortgage. Both sets of parents contributed to the deposit, and eventually we left our rented flat to get into our own home on the Tranford estate.

It was not many weeks after we moved in, when Dennie said she had another surprise for me, and showed me a sketch of a woman in a dress, obviously a bride, and asked me what I thought. There was something about it I couldn't put my finger on.

"Why are you showing me this?" I asked.

"Well, there's two things. I said if we married, you would have to be the bride, so I thought we could get married again. And the second thing is you were disappointed with the princess dress, so I thought you should have it again. There's a dressmaker in Tranford, and she reckons she could start with your sister's wedding dress and make it more like the princess dress. I showed her a photo of your sister in it. This is her design."

I was flabbergasted, and didn't speak for a while.

Then I thought of something.

"We can't get married again!"

"Yes, we can. Married couples sometimes do for an anniversary. The Community Centre here is a registered wedding venue and there's someone with a licence to marry couples. It won't mean a thing legally, but we can go through the ceremony and make our vows."

That night in bed she showed me the picture of my sister in the princess dress on her phone and I remembered how I loved it. Then I looked at the drawing, which very cleverly adapted it to an adult, based on the wedding dress bodice and neckline.

Before I knew it, I had agreed, and was being measured up by a woman called Liz who made lots of dresses for men, and knew how to disguise the male figure. It had already been adapted for Dennie, of course, so was being reconstructed again.

I had the experience normally only given to the bride, with multiple fittings and adjustments, as it gradually came together and the drawing became real. I also had the experience of a fairly severe diet to get my waist down to something manageable.

Liz and her partner Hannah had obtained the same lace that had been used for the bodice. She replaced the built-in bra with one to fit my chest with light padding to give a modest but definite bust. My lack of hips and bottom hardly mattered since it was made in a bell shape with lots of gauze. A pair of lovely shoes in my (man) size were borrowed. A wig was also supplied from a Tranford wife who was unfortunately bald, to save me having to grow my hair. (I was thinning anyway, like my dad, who was bald by the time he was thirty.) Sequins are unusual for a bride but were provided.

It was on the Saturday just after our wedding anniversary. Dennie had insisted on not seeing the dress before the wedding so I spent the night before in one of the pub guest rooms. A wedding dress like this isn't something you just put on, so in the morning it was more or less constructed around me in one of the pub's function rooms. In the same way my face and hair were created by others till I could hardly recognise myself. I was amazed when I saw my final self in a large mirror and in photographs afterward. I had a girdle to give the final reduction in my waist size, and there were suspenders to hold up lacey white stockings.

There was a big surprise, when I came out of the room.

My sister Helen was my bridesmaid!

I recognised the dress she wore. It was when the daughter of one of my mother's friends got married and we all had to attend. I was fourteen and furious that I had to wear my school uniform, while my sixteen-year-old sister wore a lovely dress as a bridesmaid. I had completely forgotten till this moment.

From what I had told Dennie, she guessed that it was the right thing to invite Helen. Helen had been totally enthusiastic, but confirmed it would not be a good idea to invite Mum and Dad. I also realised where she had got the picture of Helen when she was seven. From Helen of course! What an idiot for not realising she must have been in touch!

She had obviously kept her bridesmaid dress and I suspect it had been adjusted.

We air kissed and she whispered "You look just like a princess! I'm glad you got your own at last."

The dress had a traditional train, but only a short one, so Helen held it off the ground as I walked the short distance to the centre. There were a lot of Tranford people standing outside. The weather was bright with intermittent showers, which fortunately missed us. They followed me inside where Dennie was waiting in a dark trouser suit, taking the part of the groom. Despite this, the ceremony referred to me as the husband and her as the wife. There was no best man. The person conducting the ceremony had our rings (which we'd taken off the day before, obviously). We promised to love and cherish, but not to forsake all others. Two people behind the official, one on each side, were videoing the ceremony (in case one went wrong) while the audience were asked not to.

Once we had posed in various groups and places for photographs, Liz and Hannah took off my veil, the train and bustle (undoing safety pins.) I later realised how clever they had been. With them I was a bride. Without them I was a princess! I wore it for special occasions afterwards, and it was an incentive to stick to my diet.

Without warning me they lifted my dress to show my lace stockings and suspenders, and there were some cheers and wolf whistles. A photograph later showed a glimpse of my panties!

Taking off the train and bustle also meant I could sit down for the wedding breakfast (which was lunch, of course, in a function room in the pub.) I was starving, having had nothing but an energy drink for breakfast, but could only eat a little because of the girdle. There weren't as many people. I was later told that Tranford had had a whip-round to pay for the event, and the guests were everyone who contributed, plus my sister, of course.

Afterwards it was back to the Community Centre for dancing. Dennie led me round for a slow waltz. We had practised a bit so I was clumsy, but didn't fall over. The bridal slippers were low heels, fortunately. Helen then took the woman's part with me, and I stumbled along. Then we hopped around a bit for some modern music.

A waltz started up again and Dennie told me to stay, then pounced on Helen and led her around more successfully, finishing with a kiss. The Tranford folks were all very expert. I stayed sitting and chatting with Liz and Hannah as some other ballroom dances followed. I had been vaguely aware of dances being held in the Centre, but had not been interested. Liz told me what I had to do.

"Now you're a real Tranford wife, you'll have to take lessons to dance like a woman! In heels!"

Back in our flat, Dennie helped me out of the dress, and I put on a nightie.

We lay in bed for a while talking about the day until I fell asleep for an afternoon nap. When I woke up, Dennie was making dinner. Afterwards we looked on our iPad at photos and videos people had sent us of the event, and I was very happy.

Later, Dennie took longer than usual getting ready for bed.

She came in wearing trousers, with a cock sticking out of it! A pink strapon, of course about the same size as my cock.

"Consummation time!" she said.

"You what?!"

"I thought you'd really like to see what it was like to be a woman!"

I thought for a moment. In a way it was exciting. I knew ordinary heterosexual couples did it. Would I feel more of a woman? Did I want to?

"Not just now," I finally said.

"It would spoil the day."

"Of course," she answered, undoing her trousers and starting to undo it.

"Silly to spring it on you like this. We'll take it gently with a finger and smaller dildoes until you're ready. No hurry."

I thought some more.

"In fact, not at all. I like being a woman, but I don't want to be fucked."

"What kind of woman doesn't want to be fucked?" she asked, coyly.

"One who fancies other women!" I said, and she laughed.

We hugged and kissed.

"That's the kind of woman I fancy!" Dennie said with a big grin.

"And I don't mean butch ones. Just bear with me and I'll make you into the woman of my dreams!"

"Meanwhile, if you want a suck or a fuck..."

"I love you," I said, "but I'm tired."

Next day I asked Dennie if she had any fantasy about fucking a man, and she said "Perish the thought! I don't fancy it all, but I'd do it if you wanted, because I love you. That's why I offered."

"Same here," I said.

"I'd do it if you wanted, but we're both happy without, let's forget it."

Then it was back to work.

During working hours and any related events, I was Roy, an unexceptional young married man, trying to do well in his career, married to a good-looking and promising young woman elsewhere in the firm. She never dressed anything like a butch lesbian, because she wasn't looking for fun in a gay bar. Instead she had a moderate female hairstyle, wore trousers but undoubtedly female clothes at work and makeup to look smart and professional. At the Christmas party, she wore a nice dress that showed her figure and makeup so that people said I was a very lucky man. (Which I am!)

But in the evenings and weekends in Tranford, I was Alice, learning to walk in heels, and not just walk but to do it in a feminine way with a bit of a wiggle. I learned to dance with a wonderful old man called Freddie. There were also a gay couple, handsome men who liked dancing with women, who were in great demand and were at the classes, as well as at the regular dances. I now have three gowns for dancing and Dennie has a man's dark suit (adjusted) for when she partners me or other women.

Denise took control of my clothes and makeup to make me into the sort of woman she would fancy, a very feminine one in dresses (made or adjusted by Liz and Hannah). The underwear is pretty rather than sexy: full briefs with lace, hearts, even little bows. No jeans, no tracksuit bottoms. Good makeup always. (And a permanent diet.) We bought some good quality wigs for different occasions, which many Tranford wives do.

Apart from Friday, my evening ritual was as follows.

Home for a shave, and a shower, then the three most important things: a bra, lipstick and perfume. Even before putting on a dress, I felt like Alice. It had taken a while to find the right perfume. Denise had a more musky one, an understated but expensive perfume. It was necessary for her work persona. Mine was more flowery, and she thought with my skin it gave the right vibes for her to feel me as the sort of feminine woman she liked. I'd do anything to be that woman.

I also put on silver necklace she gave me, with the letters ALICE. It's so special.

Once I had put on my makeup and wig, I went for a walk, except in bad weather. It was so good to walk like a woman in three-inch heels and feel the air on my legs. Many of the Tranford wives wear stockings with suspenders because their husbands like it, but it's not the fashion today, even though women must be as cold as I sometimes am. I do enjoy shaving my legs at the weekend! In colder weather I wear black tights of course. I do wear stockings with suspenders under the princess dress, but with a slightly larger size girdle than the one I wore as a bride. Still, I do tummy exercises and wear a shaper to give me a bit more waist when I'm in my dresses.

I have enough dresses to wear a different one every day of the week and also get new ones occasionally for the seasons if Dennie approves. It's a shame I can't try them on in the shops, but we're pretty good at estimating, and Liz and Hannah do wonders with tiny alterations. Fortunately these days, you can return something if they advise it won't work for me.

The real annoyance with makeup was mascara. It makes all the difference, and I love it, but it can be awkward to get off the lashes. I use a special remover at night and in the morning peer and poke to make sure I've got it all off. Then after the morning shower and shave, I put on Roy's aftershave.

By the way, I keep my Roy and Alice clothes in different wardrobes, because the perfume on one can drift to the other.

I only have one pair of ordinary male shoes for work, but six (at the moment) for Alice time. My regular outdoor heels, another for dancing and indoor more formal occasions, wedge sandals for summer, ankle boots for winter, and my cheap Mary Janes, for when I put on the original blue Alice dress as a bit of fun. (With white socks, of course, but unlike at the dance, I wear a bra. I wouldn't feel right without one.) Indoors I've got a pair of low-heel (but not flat) loafers and sandals (ditto). Oh yes, I still have the bridal slippers though I promised to return them. I was told it was all right and I still look at them every so often for the lovely memories, though I never wear them.

For bedtime I have such lovely nightdresses. Dennie wears men's pyjamas for comfort and mostly lounges around in a tracksuit. And she does lounge, while I am trying to sit properly and sedately with my legs together. Outside she dresses like a typical casual young woman, in jeans or leggings with an appropriate top and sneakers. She actually looks rather good in a miniskirt which she occasionally wears. She has work-appropriate hairstyle and moderate makeup.

It was wonderful. I just had to be careful at work, not to sit down as if I was in a dress, sweeping my skirt up behind me to sit on. When I needed a pee, I occasionally went to a stall instead of the urinal, but mostly stood with the other guys, and their occasionally sexist banter.

I can't really explain why I liked dressing as a woman. It was definitely sort of sexy, but I never got a hard-on when in a dress. There was just a permanent satisfaction of some sort, especially being treated as woman among other women, wearing nice clothes. I didn't want to go further and do anything with a man, even just kissing. The Tranford men were scrupulously polite, giving compliments but not actually coming on to me or other Tranford wives. I worried that it might be different if we really went out into the outside world.

On Friday evenings we had a ritual. We came home, showered and had our weekly fuck. Not just that, of course, a loving and enjoyable time cuddling, kissing and fondling. She gave herself an orgasm before and after, which I loved to see. Except when she had a period, so sucked me off.

Once a week was all I needed to maintain my masculinity while allowing me to enjoy female weekends. Every night we cuddled and kissed (and sometimes during the day). We were truly lovers, and I didn't think I could be happier.

We visited our parents, of course as Roy and Denise. My mother usually asked if we had any family plans. Dennie's mother usually asked if we were really happy, looking doubtful.

Dennie suggested it once or twice a year, but I never had the courage to go on holiday as Alice.

CHAPTER 8

We had been married for four years, when she said she had something very important to discuss with me.

"First of all, I want you to know that I love you and will never leave you. This doesn't have to change a thing about us."

I gulped, and half guessed.

"I've met another woman, at work, actually, and we're attracted to each other."

She waited, but I didn't know what to say.

She continued.

"Sexually, I mean. I don't love her, but I want her, and she wants me."

She seemed to want some kind of response.

"I see," was all I could manage. It seemed to be enough, since she smiled, and continued.

"We've kissed, but nothing more. I want your permission to have sex with her occasionally."

I opened my mouth, but still didn't know what to say, but fortunately she raised her hand.

"No, don't say anything now. I want you to meet her and her husband."

"Her husband?!" was my first contribution to the conversation.

"Yes. He knows and she thinks she can persuade him. They're about ten years older than us with three children. It's better if they explain themselves so I've invited them over on Tuesday at seven, if that's all right."

Dennie worked in a different part of the company to me (and had already been promoted) so we didn't see each other during the day and had different colleagues. The husband worked elsewhere. I was shown pictures of the couple and their children.

The main thing in preparation was to hide all traces of my secret identity. I also practised by staying male when I got home in the evenings. It was odd not having a wig.

They came for dinner one evening.

Their names were Mark and Carol, and they looked very much like a middle-aged middle-class medium-size mum and dad. Mark had the same hair situation as me, but more advanced, i. e. less.

The women kissed each other on the cheek, we men more or less grunted as Dennie made the introductions.

Immediately, Carol started, looking at me.

"I'm so sorry, it wasn't anything intentional. It just happened. I love my husband and my children, and I know Dennie loves you."

Mark interrupted.

"Can we at least sit down, darling? Don't apologise. Let's just get to know each other and see how things work out."

It was a strange dinner. The talk was mainly about the children, but Dennie explained that I knew she liked women when we got married, but we still wanted each other, and we were very happy. It was nice of the husbands to consider letting their wives have a little time together. Carol said that she probably had been attracted to women for a long time, but had not recognised it until she met Dennie. Mark said hardly anything. I could see he was unhappy with the situation, and it would be hard to persuade him. It must have been a real shock for him, while I sort of always expected it. We had supposedly agreed to other partners on the side, but I didn't want to hurt a marriage, especially with children.

Finally the dinner was over. The women went into the kitchen, while the men stayed in the living room with coffee.

I was apprehensive as Mark looked at me with a very serious face and spoke in a low voice.

"Mate, I'm begging you. Say you agree!"

"This is the best thing that's ever happened to me! We were really in the doldrums with our marriage, hardly ever having sex, but now I know she's bisexual it's the hottest thing ever. I actually had to have a sneaky wank before coming over, just because I was going to meet the woman my wife wanted. I can't wait until she goes off and I think what she's up to with your missus. Can you imagine if they let us watch?"

His eyes were wet, as he actually grabbed my hand and looked me straight in the eye.

"Please say yes, and you'll make two people very happy! We'll probably spend money on the kids as well, so it's for the family."

What could I say?

"Ok. No problem. Fine by me."

"Oh mate! You're the best!" he said and actually hugged me as the kitchen door opened, and the women came in.

"Well, well," said Carol.

"I see you boys are getting on all right. Should we leave you alone for a while?"

We both went red, as Mark stuttered "No, not like that. It's just we've agreed you girls can... er, you know, if you want."

I had an idea.

"Mark. Why don't we stroll down to the pub, and leave the girls to chat?"

He beamed.

"Brilliant idea."

He looked at his wife.

"Yes, I'll drive home," she said, "but don't get drunk and embarrass me in front of the kids."

He leapt to his feet.

"Nice pub, is it?" he asked.

"Pretty good," I answered.

"I hope so," he continued.

"Maybe you and me could meet regular. Lads' night out, you know."

"Maybe," I said, and off we went.

"Will you?" I whispered to Dennie on the way out, and she nodded with a big smile.

"See you in an hour?" said Carol to Mark.

"Or so," added Dennie.

In the pub, one or two people raised their eyebrows seeing me in my male disguise. I think some others didn't recognise me. (Which afterwards I thought was nice.)

Mark tried two local ales, just halves, and we attempted to talk about anything but what we were thinking. Thank heavens for the mobile phone! He showed me pictures of the kids, and told me their life histories. Whatever the state of the marriage, there was no doubt he loved them.

At one point he whispered "That waitress has a great pair of knockers, hasn't she?"

Well, she did show a good deal of cleavage.

"Oh, she'll pleased to hear that," I said.

"Hey, Ginger. My mate says you've got a nice pair of tits!"

"Thank you, kind sir," she said, beaming then bent forward to wobble them in his direction, to the accompaniment of laughter in the room.

Mark went red.

"It's all right," I said.

"They cost a lot of money, and she's very proud of them. You've probably made her day!"

He was still embarrassed, so looked at his watch.

"It's an hour and a half. Should we be getting back?"

"Ok," I said, and waved good to Ginger as we stood up. She patted her bust and blew a kiss to Mark.

"Come back soon. You'll always be welcome," she called out.

(See Tranford Tales - Ginger to read her story.)

As we walked back, Mark said something.

"Did you see that woman in the green dress? Do you think she used to be a bloke?"

"There's a lot of it about," I said.

Back home the two women were sitting sedately as if nothing had happened, but trying not to smirk.

"Nice chat?" I said, and they definitely smirked and Carol said "Very nice. Nice pub, Mark?"

"Yeah, very nice," he said, and they hurried to leave.

Next time I saw Mark, he said they had stopped in a layby on the way home and she had tossed him off. Now they were eagerly fucking several times a week, and making an effort to find times away from the kids.

However, we didn't fuck. I was so happy that I didn't want to spoil the moment for Dennie. Somehow in my nightdress that was all right. However, I fucked her the next morning and started fucking her two or three times a week.

Friday evening changed. The two grandmothers were delighted to take turns babysitting the children, while Mark and Carol went out with their new friends from work. In practice, Mark and I went out to a pub for dinner while the women made their own arrangements.

Mark was too embarrassed to go back to the Tranford Arms, so I had to drive him to other pubs, though it was interesting to try different ones. In hindsight it was good that I only went to the Arms as Alice, and no-one wondered why the two husbands left their wives alone so regularly.

Mark says they now fuck every night.

We visit Mark and Carol occasionally, and send the kids birthday and Christmas presents. Dennie says she doesn't want to be a mother but likes being an honorary auntie.

Mark and I eventually persuaded our wives to go to a hotel for the night. A twin room, of course: two female friends saving money. Both wives came home with grins as wide as Cheshire cats, and showed their appreciation to their husbands. It is now an occasional treat for all of us.

By the way, we have both been forbidden to make any attempt at cunnilingus, now they're getting what Dennie describes as 'the real thing!'

I thought I was as happy as I could be, but now Dennie has Carol it's perfect. It's wonderful that my lesbian wife is now getting the sexual satisfaction she craves. (And I am getting extra lust for her, which keeps my man juices going.) And I am so grateful for her for developing my crossdressing, so it's now half my life. At work, and with my good friend Mark, I'm Roy, an ordinary man who likes his job and loves his life. In Tranford (and now occasionally somewhere else) I'm Alice, once a princess bride, and proud to be a Tranford wife.