As a I drove home, the next problem struck me - Sam was coming home in just a few
days. There was no way hair could grow back in days, surely? I tossed around some ideas: could I avoid being naked until it grew back? Ridiculous. Make up some excuse for why I had to do it? Hardly. The least-worst idea I had was to make up a story about starting up my bike riding again; though when I'd enjoyed it a few years before, I'd never seen the need to go 'smooth'.
Well, it would have to do. I made a mental note to dig out my bike gear and leave it lying somewhere prominent.
When I arrived back home, I went to the bathroom and stripped off, carefully reading the label, which had all manner of warnings - including that I should test the cream on a patch of skin first, in case of any allergic reactions. But it was well after 2pm now, and to hell with that. Also, though I didn't like to think too much about it, I was starting to feel a tremor of excitement again, and I looked guiltily down at my cock, which was standing thoroughly to attention. As I squeezed out the cream into one hand, I admired myself in the mirror - not the most athletic guy, but slim, and lightly muscular. As I bent down to start slathering the cream on my ankles, another guilty thrill washed over me, and I stuck my ass out a little, imagining that I was being watched.
It was awfully tempting to start stroking myself as I lathered my body all the way up to the next. I paused briefly at my groin, then thought - to hell with it! - and also massaged a healthy wad of the cream into my pubic hair.
I spent an unpleasant ten minutes waiting for it all to dry, wrinkling my nose at the chemical smell, and then stepped into the shower and started wiping the cream off with a cloth. I was thrilled to see the hair coming away with it, and within a few minutes, I was washing off the last of the cream under the shower,and cleaning up the odd missed bit of hair with a razor. The feeling of washing my groin was exquisite, as my soapy hands slipped all over my cock and my balls, and when I finally climbed out and looked at myself in the mirror, I was amazed.
How much of our manliness is defined by our hair? I'd never have thought so, and yet when I stood there admiring my smooth, pink legs and body, I felt awfully like a girl. My cock, half flaccid, seemed small and delicate now it wasn't bedded down in a mess of curly pubes, and I played absently with it, even tucking it between my legs, out of sight. I felt I was ready.
- 3 -
For the rest of the afternoon, I snuck around the house trying to work out what to wear, and how I might go about the makeup. In the end, I decided on some red lipstick and black eyeliner that were in a box in the bathroom cabinet. The eyeliner was difficult, but when I was done, I was happy with the effect.
My short hair didn't look the part, but I didn't have a wig, and at least the makeup made my eyes and mouth look a little feminine. Next, I laid out the clothes - for this part, I took down an old suitcase from the study that was supposedly filled with old magazines, but actually was my hiding place for my favourite outfit: a complete matching set of lilac and black lingerie that I'd bought online, complete with suspender belt and thin thigh-high stockings.
I carefully hooked up the bra and suspender belt, then rolled each stocking up my leg with great care so as not to catch my toenails on them. Then I attached the suspender clips, and stepped into the g-string. The feeling of the g-string sliding up my stockings and hairless thighs was heavenly, and I had to leave my cock poking out the top while I first positioned it - I was far too hard to even fit them on at the front! I delighted in the guilty pleasurable feeling as the lace trim tucked itself away between my ass cheeks, rubbing lightly against my asshole at the back. I turned around a few times in front of the mirror - yes, I was ready. And it was nearly 7.30pm.
Now for the challenging part - getting round to Gary's house.
Gary's house was actually on an adjacent side of the block - but being a long property, his back yard extended directly behind mine. So there wasn't a long way to walk. But the sight of a man wandering around in women's lingerie at 8pm on a Sunday wasn't exactly the sort of thing my neighbours would turn a blind eye to. I debated covering up, then shivered when I remembered Gary slapping me the last time I'd disobeyed instructions. How quickly could I move in the high heels, I wondered? I'd certainly practiced walking in them around the house many times, but the last thing I wanted was to sprain an ankle and need rescuing by a passer-by. Fortunately, it was getting dark outside.
I did a last check round the house, deciding at the last moment to take one of Sam's old handbags from her cupboard, so I'd have something to put my house keys in. Then to help summon the courage, I stopped by the liquor cabinet and took a healthy swallow of Vodka. I was as ready as I'd ever be, so I stepped out onto the front porch, and quietly closed the door.
Outside the evening was still warm, but dusk had fallen, and a cool breeze was starting to spring up. It blew lightly across my smooth ass cheeks, and it was thrilling to be outside, exposed to the world like this. I snuck to the front gate, looking carefully around and listening for cars or people walking.
Thankfully it was quiet as could be, and with my heart hammering in my chest, I began to clop carefully down the footpath towards the corner.
It was amazing to feel the way my ass and hips jutted and rolled as I walked, and I couldn't help accentuate it a little as a went, even though a part of me was screaming in panic at every tiny sound. I wondered if the sound of my high heels would drown out the noise of an approaching jogger, or a car rolling quietly, and I walked as fast as I could to Gary's, breathing a huge sigh of relief when I was in his front garden and out of sight from the street.
I stood there, clutching Sam's handbag, and wondering what would be in store for me.
- 4 -
I carefully climbed the front steps and pressed the bell. Shortly I heard Gary's footsteps approaching, and he opened the door. He was wearing a pair of light trousers and a shirt, open at the next to show his chest. He looked me up and down, while I stared at my feet in embarrassment.
"Not bad - not bad at all," he said. "Come in."
I walked inside and put down my bag, and he closed and latched the front door with a rather final-sounding click.
"Just so that we have some privacy," he said, and inclined his head at the locked door. I gulped.
"Now would you like to have something to drink, J-", he said, then stopped. "You know, I don't think we should go calling you John - you hardly look like one anymore, do you." He looked thoughtfully at me, then said "I think we'll go for a simple swap - you can call yourself Jane."
"OK," I tried to say, but my throat had gone so dry that only a squeak came out. I tried again: "OK - and yes, could I have a small drink please?"
Gary led me to the lounge room and sat me down while we went and made a couple of spirit mixers; I had no idea what, but anything would do just then to calm my nerves. As he handed mine to me, I looked up and caught an eyeful of his groin, which was bulging. When I looked further up at his face, he was grinning. "I'd say someone is pretty pleased with your outfit, Jane," he said. "Maybe you should finish that drink up as quick as you can." He tossed his back with one startling motion, then took my hand and pulled me to my feet and I gulped at my own drink, the alcohol stinging my throat. Thankfully the earlier vodka was doing its work - I felt a warm buzz already. Gary stood back, admiring my outfit, and gestured for me to turn around. I was shocked when he stepped close behind me, and grabbed on of my ass cheeks, squeezing it roughly. His other hand slipped around and rested possessively over one bra cup.
"You look delicious, Jane," he said. "Do you feel as sexy as you look?"
I didn't say anything, but I didn't resist as he pressed up against me. I could feel his hard-on pressing neatly between my cheeks, and my own penis was in great danger of popping completely out of my underwear.
"I think you best head down to the bedroom," he said, and once again I found myself walking down there in a daze, this time with Gary fondling my ass as I walked. I couldn't stop myself from rocking it back and forth with each step; I was blazing hot now with the desire to get this over with - my hair was nearly
standing on end, and I knew that I'd come here to be fucked.