It Started With A Date

A thrill ran through me when he referred to his girls. Plural. And he wanted me to make myself pretty for him. Then as I made my way upstairs, I wondered what was going on in my head. I am not gay. I don't like men that way. Yet there was just something about David that made me want to be in his company. Made me want to please him. What was happening to me?

Wendy was coming naked from the shower when I entered the bedroom and I could clearly see the effects of last night's escapades. There were at least 4 hickeys on her neck and breasts and she had that relaxed doe-eyed fresh-fucked look she used to have after a night with me when we were newly married. My first thought was that I wished those hickeys were on my body, and I was the one with that look on my face. God. Where were these thoughts coming from?

"Those breast forms are waterproof, so why don't you grab a quick shower while I get dressed and then I can help you with your makeup before we head down for breaky?"

After a quick shower, I dried off, brushed out my hair and gave it a fluff. Wendy then advised me on the appropriate amount of makeup for an after-date breakfast and when I had it applied to her satisfaction, she handed me a cute little shift to slip on before we headed down to the kitchen.

David complemented my dress and makeup but the warmth his comments generated was quickly chilled as I sat opposite the lovers watching them interact as they ate. I felt jealous. Jealous of her. She was the one holding his attention.

Of course she was. She had real tits not just some rubber glue-on imitations., and she had a pussy too. Not a tucked back penis, but a pussy. A wet inviting pussy between her legs that he could sink that nice big cock into. But that's OK. She wouldn't be with him all day every day at the clinic. I'd have plenty of time to figure out a way to get him to pay attention to me too.

JEEZUZ! What was wrong with me? I'm sitting here jealous of my wife's tits and pussy, and thinking of how I am going to steal her boyfriend away from her. What in God's name is wrong with me. I'm not gay. I don't want real tits and I sure don't want a pussy. Not even if it means he will never look at me like he does her. Oh. If only he would look at me like he looks at her.

"I'll drop by to pick you up first thing Monday morning," he said leaning in to gave me a peck on the lips as he was leaving. "The uniforms should arrive tomorrow before dinner time."

It was actually happening. I was really going to be working with him every day at his clinic. I would answer his phones. "Dr. Jones' office. May I say who's calling please?" It sounded good in my head. I would bring him his coffee. Milk with two sugars, I had paid attention at breakfast. Maybe even help him save the life of some poor sick or injured animal. Christ. I sounded like some love-sick teenager. What has come over me?

It was mid-afternoon when the uniforms arrived. Oh my they looked very smart. Very professional. I rushed upstairs to try one on with my new white nurse's shoes. Looking at myself in the mirror I saw the name embroidered on the chest. "Terri." The female version of my male name. I was shocked, not really knowing what to think. Why had he feminized my name?

I looked up as the door opened and Wendy entered the room.

"Do you like it? It was my idea really. I thought it would help avoid confusion about you. Help people accept you and recognize you as a woman."

"But I'm not a woman Wendy," I almost sobbed. "I don't know what I have been feeling since our date with David. I'll admit to having some very confusing emotions, but I'm not a woman."

"Of course you are not a woman," she smirked. "You may dress as one, but you don't have a nice set of tits like these," she continued cupping her breasts, "and you certainly don't have a soft wet cunt like mine." My very thoughts from yesterday thrown back at me in her voice.

"Look in the mirror Terri. Look at the woman in the mirror and tell me she should have a male name. Look and tell me. LOOK at yourself."

I turned back to the mirror and looked myself up and down. She was right. The uniform fit me well. It hung on my body correctly, thanks to the breast forms and I looked very passable even without my makeup. She was right. I couldn't wear this outfit and look like this and call myself by the masculine version of my name. I was far from masculine. I was Terri.

After a good night's sleep, I felt relaxed and refreshed and ready to start in my new role as David's receptionist. Sure, I had an advanced degree in computer science and programming, and a receptionist's position was way below my qualification, but I was helping David out of a jam, and I really, REALLY, wanted him to like me.

Up early, I was showered, depilated shaved, and dressed an hour before David had said he would be there to pick me up. Wendy just chuckled at my enthusiasm as she helped me with my makeup.

"Daytime makeup needs to be different. We will need a bit of extra foundation to make sure that your whiskers do not show through as the day wears on, but let's go lightly with the rest. We don't want you looking too slutty on your first day."

When I looked in the mirror, I was impressed. I looked pretty good, and unless someone got right up close and personal. I would have no problem passing as David's female receptionist. Oh how I wanted him to be proud of me. How I wanted him to appreciate how good I looked. How feminine I looked. I wanted him to look at me and want me. Want me as much or more than he wanted Wendy. WHAT? Where in Hell were these thoughts coming from?

David was quite complementary when I opened the door to his knock, and acted the gentleman as he drove me to the clinic. He gave me a quick lesson on the computer system and I was on my own to answer the phones and deal with the clients until lunch time.

David closed and locked the door for the lunch hour and stepped behind the counter to check the morning's billings and afternoon appointments. His casual inquiry turned increasingly frantic as he clicked on window after window. I had thought I had done a good job and followed his instruction carefully, but apparently I had unintentionally deleted an entire day of data. How could I have done that?

"Shit," he exclaimed as he realized what I had done. "How could you have been so careless? I showed you what to do. Now I have to waste my lunch hour to restore from backup instead of having a nice lunch with you."

I was devastated. I had ruined his plans and they had included spending time with me. I'm a software developer. How could I have done that? What was wrong with my brain? The depths of my disappointment and shame surfaced as a flood of tears down my cheeks. When a sob escaped my lips, David turned away from the screen to face me and I saw his face soften.

"Oh. Jeez Terri," he soothed. "I'm sorry. It's not so bad really, It'll just take me a little while to get it fixed. You better go dry your tears and get your makeup fixed before the afternoon clients arrive."

At his suggestion I grabbed my purse and headed for the bathroom to sort myself out. As I looked in the mirror I saw that he had been right about my face, I really needed quite a bit of work to repair the damage my tears had caused. As I pulled out my foundation and eyeshadow, I felt a warm glow building. He had forgiven me for the screw-up and even warned me about my makeup. He cared about me. He really cared about me.

As I worked on my face, the bathroom door opened and David walked in.

"That looks much better," he complemented. "Almost back to normal."

Normal. Normal? Of course it was normal. I was his receptionist and I needed to look my best to make a good impression with the clients. As I looked back to the mirror, David stepped up to the toilet and pulled out his cock. The sound of his stream hitting the water caused me to turn my head and see what he was doing.

"David," I gasped. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? What's the big deal, You've seen my cock before, remember? I even told you that I might give you another look."

Why couldn't I tear my eyes away? I've seen guys pissing hundreds of times and never had any interest in what was going on. Why was I so enamoured with David's cock? It was a really nice cock. A little longer than mine perhaps, not too thick, with a large head. A fleeting thought of what it might feel like in my mouth caused an icicle to shoot through my center. What was I thinking? What had come over me?

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, but I just couldn't shake that vision of David's cock. That was the cock that Wendy was getting. Every time I thought of her and David together, I felt the cold hand of jealousy gripping my heart. Of course she had him, She had real breasts, not these stupid rubber glue-on things, and she had a pussy to accept his cock.

After the last client had gone and the door was locked, David and I cleaned the surgery, after which he asked me to sit with him in his office.

"So Terri," he began from behind his big desk. "How did you like your first day?"

"Well, I thought it was very good. Aside from that bit with the computer this morning. I don't know what got into me to mess that up. But, yes. All in all it was a pretty good day. I thought."

"I agree, but there is a little bit of a problem I think we need to address," he announced, leaning forward in his chair. "As I look at you now, I am seeing just a hint of a five o'clock shadow. The breast forms are passable for the moment, but the beard...The beard is a potential problem. Now that I look closely, I see too a bit too much masculinity in your facial features. Something my clients may not appreciate."

Oh no. I only made it one day and he was going to fire me already. I had to say something. I had to do something. I don't know why I did, but I needed him to like me, to want me, to have me as his receptionist. What was I going to do? How could I make this right? But then my knight in shining armour came to my rescue.

"Here's the thing. I think that if we started you on a high dose of female hormones, you know, just while you were working here, it would reduce your facial hair significantly, soften your features, and after a few months, even help you develop some breasts. What do you think?"

I had never felt so relieved. He wasn't going to fire me. He was going to help me solve my problems. I could keep working here, keep being close to him. What did I think? What a stupid question.

"Well," I began slowly, not wanting to seem too eager. "I guess if you thought it was the right thing for me. If you thought it would help." I continued, while inside my heart was leaping at the prospects of more feminine features and breasts. REAL breasts.

"OK then. If you are in agreement, there's no time like the present to get started is there? Why don't we just step into the surgery?"

Standing and moving towards me he took my hand and led me across the hall to the surgery where he asked me to bend over the examination table. Moving behind me he lifted the hem of my uniform up over my back. My thong underwear did nothing to hide my naked ass from his stare.

"Nice," he whispered. "Very nice. I don't know how I am going to concentrate on my work now that I know you are walking around here with your naked ass under your uniform."

His complement went straight to my heart and warmed me right through. I would have to be sure to tease him with a peek up my skirt whenever there were no clients around. Tease him? A peek up my skirt? What was I thinking? I'm a man, and I like women. What was it about David that made me want to please him like I did? Where were these feelings coming from anyway?

As I had been mulling these thoughts over I had not been paying attention to what David was doing and I jumped when I felt his warm hand rest on my hip while a cold alcohol swab rubbed my buttock. A quick jab with the needle and I was on my way. Why had I agreed to this? Did I really want this? Yes. Yes I did. I wanted to please David. God help me, I wanted him to want me. The hormones would help.

"One more little thing Terri," he announced. "Hold up your skirt and turn around."

I was a little nervous. I was tucked and so I knew that my thong wouldn't look too full but still... I did as instructed and watched as David reached over and pulled down the front of my panties just to the top of my cock. With his other hand he applied what looked like a square bandage, then pressed it firmly in place, at the same time as he told me it was a slow release estrogen patch.

He was so close, this action so intimate, that I felt myself beginning to swell. My skin tingled where his warm hand pressed the patch so close to my crotch. I prayed that my dick would stay tucked and not embarrass me in front of David. Then he turned away and told me we were all done.

As I returned to the front desk to collect my things, I heard David in the bathroom. The unmistakable sound of urine hitting the water was clear enough to let me know that he had not closed the door. I knew that if I just moved down the hall a little I could look straight in and get another good look at his cock. I could see it clearly in my mind's eye. That first flash in the kitchen. Again at lunch hour today.

I was just going to move when I heard him washing his hands and knew that the moment had passed. Well there was always tomorrow. Oh God. What's wrong with me?

The rest of the week was a series of slight variations on the same theme. When Friday finally rolled around, David told me at lunch that he wanted to take Wendy and I out for dinner again. My heart leapt into my throat at the prospect of another date with him. I was just a bit jealous that he had decided not to take just me but, decided that I would take what I could get. I spent the afternoon oscillating between euphoria and depression. Why was I being so damned emotional? Why was I tearing up one minute and singing love songs the next?

About half way through the afternoon David stopped by my desk and said he had noticed my mood swings.

"Terri," he whispered. "I think you are reacting to the hormones. It's been a tough week for you and I want you to take the rest of the afternoon off. Take a nap, relax, make yourself pretty for tonight. It's OK. Really."

It was like the weight of the world had come off my shoulders. Of course it was the hormones. I'd feel better once I got myself a rest. By the time Wendy got home I'd had a nice long bath and was really looking forward to our date with David.

Installing the rubber breast forms was a bit depressing, but when I saw how properly my dress hung, I perked up again.

I was first to the door when David rang and gave him a little peck on the cheek as a welcome. We walked together to the kitchen and David opened and poured the wine. As he passed me my glass, he also handed me two little pills like the ones Wendy had given me last week.

"I know you are having a tough time with the hormones this week," He explained tenderly. "These will help calm you down."

I took them with my first swallow of wine.

We had no sooner made our way to the living room, when Wendy made her appearance. She was wearing a stunning low cut dress I hadn't seen before and it was obvious that she was bra-less underneath. When she turned I saw that the back was also open almost all the way to her buttocks.

"I see it fits perfectly," David said, standing and moving to take her in his embrace. "The instant I saw it, I knew it would look stunning on you," and then he wrapped his arms around my wife and kissed her lovingly on the lips.

I was heartbroken and intensely jealous. He had bought her that stunning dress and he loved her in it. She was showing off her beautiful breasts while I was forced to wear these stupid rubber contraptions. As I stood there watching the lovers embrace I realized that I wanted David to want me like he obviously wanted her. I wanted to look good for him. I was so jealous that I couldn't wear a dress like Wendy's and tantalize him with my cleavage.

What was it about this man that put these thoughts into my head? I like women. I don't want a man to want me. Well not just any man. David. I wanted David to want me. What was this strange attraction I had to this man? Why was it so important to me to be attractive to him. How could I be jealous of my wife, when I should be jealous of him?

After an agonizing half hour of conversation. David announced that it was time to go. Once again I was relegated to the rear seat. Once again, a pang of jealousy that I wasn't the one sitting in the front with David.

The restaurant was a lovely spot and we got a window side table. The view of the lake was spectacular and both David and Wendy were very attentive. Complementing me on my feminine mannerisms and making sure my wine glass never got too empty. By the time we'd finished desert, I was feeling quite good about myself. Quite good, that is, except when I felt those damned breast forms tugging at the glue and wished that I had real breasts like Wendy.

As we sat there over coffee and cognac, David cleared his throat, glanced to Wendy and then looked at me.

"Terri," he began. "I really like you and you are being good enough to help me out at the clinic so I'd like to do something special for you."

He liked me, he liked that I was helping at the clinic. He liked me. I felt a sudden flush of happiness. I was so excited that I almost missed what he said next.

"You see, I have a client, a plastic surgeon, who has a small horse farm. He owes me quite a bit of money from last year and he made me an offer. He is willing to do some work for me in exchange for a reduction in my bill," David continued. "Now his specialty is breast augmentation and as we can both see, Wendy doesn't need any assistance in that department."

A sharp pang of jealousy stabbed through my heart at those words.

"Well, I asked Wendy what she thought and she suggested that It might make a nice gift for you."

What? What did he say? He had talked to Wendy about plastic surgery? A gift for me? My mind was swimming.

"Pardon?" I sputtered. "David, what are you talking about?"

"What I'm asking you Terri, is if you would like to get rid of those breast forms and have a real pair of breasts under your dresses."

It was like he had been reading my mind. I was so jealous of Wendy's beautiful breasts. The way they attracted his eye. The way she flaunted them when we were out with David. I hated these stupid rubber glue-on things. Real breasts. Did I want real breasts? I don't know why it was so important to me at that moment, but, yes. I really did want real breasts. Breasts that would be attractive and pleasing to David.

"Oh David," I whispered. "Would you really do that for me? Could I really get real breasts?"

"Wendy said you would be thrilled. In fact, that's part of the reason for tonight's dinner. A little pre-celebration as it were. If you want to, I can take you down to his clinic tomorrow morning. He is normally closed on Saturdays, but he said he would do it for you tomorrow morning of you agreed.

Oh my God. I felt giddy as a school girl. I think I actually clapped my hands together in glee as I looked into his caring eyes and just said yes over and over again then jumped out of my chair to wrap my arms around his strong neck and shoulders and plant a warm wet kiss on his full sensuous lips. This man. This incredible wonderful man, was going to make my dream come true. I was going to get breasts. Real breasts. Well, implants actually, but real enough to get rid of these ridiculous rubber tits I had to glue on every day. It was no wonder I loved him and wanted him to love me back. What? Loved him? Wanted him to love me? Where did that come from? I'm not gay. I never wanted a man in my life. I never wanted a man to want me. What was happening to me? I was getting breasts, that's what. Hooray.