Public at Last Ch. 02

Previous chapter: Paul (Paula) gets stuck in a public park dressed entirely as a woman and cannot get home. He calls his best friend Heather to come and help him, but she does not know about his cross dressing fetish.

"Heidi-ho friend-boy!" Heather answered, "Where were you today? You coming over?"

I held my cell phone away from my ear as the background noise at the Point and Feather Pub (where Heather was clearly getting drunk) skewed her voice and caused cell phone drop-outs.

I didn't have a plan now. I hesitated.

"Paul? Hello? This is you isn't it?"

"Hi Heather," I yelled so she could hear me, "Yes, it's me. No, something's come up. Uh, I need a favor, a really, really big favor. I'm in a jam."

Her voice became serious. "Wait, I'm going outside where it's quieter." Some time passed while he heard her footsteps. "Ok, that's better. You're in a jam? What kind of jam?"

I sighed and bit my lip. "Hetti," I said, using her nick-name, "I need you to come pick me up. I'm at the west parking lot of Laurie Park. My car, uh, broke down."

"So, just call a cab and come on over to the pub. You can get it towed tomorrow or something. Are you okay? You sound weird."

"Hetti, it's not that simple. Uh, look, I need help. Please, just come and pick me up. I'll be in the washroom."

"In the washroom? Are you sick? What's going on?"

I was starting to get frustrated, and even a little irritated at her questions. "Heather, I need you as a friend. Just come and pick me up. Please. I'll explain it all later. And please don't judge me." I hung up quickly.

The next half hour was the longest half hour that I have ever spent. I went back into the ladies washroom, entered a cubicle, locked the door, and sat on the toilet seat and waited. I had nothing to do but stare at the four bare walls and look down at my breasts and dress and high heeled boots. My nails...Jesus, even my nails were painted for Christ's sake! I released sigh after sigh and waited.

After an eternity, lights flashed through the grates in the side of the washroom walls. A car door opened and then slammed shut. A voice came from outside. "Paul? Hey Paul, are you in there?"

This is what I had dreaded most. It had come to this. I said, "I'll be right out."

Not expecting me to come out of the ladies room, she didn't see me at first. Then I said, "Hetti, over here."

That's when she turned and her friend Janet got out of the driver's side of a car just past where Heather was standing. When they saw me they both stared with their mouths open.

"Paul?" they said in unison.

I decided to try a story. "Look, this isn't the way it looks. I was at a Halloween party, and, uh, well, things went uh funny and, anyway I'm here, and my keys are locked in the car."

"I thought you said your car broke down."

"Yeah, well, I meant I left my keys in the ignition."

Heather squinted at me in confusion and said, "So, you left the party, came here dressed like that, got out of your car...dressed like that...and locked your keys in the ignition. And you have no money or a credit card for a cab. Have I got all this right?"

"Yeah, well, uh, I forgot to put my wallet in my purse. Not my purse, I mean, this purse. I don't carry a purse." I was fading badly.

Janet took her cell phone out and started with the pictures, laughing. Heather, on the other hand, stared at me with a slight grin and said to Janet, "Well Jan, could you, as my designated driver, drive us back to Paul's place? Seems like he's got himself into a predicament. And it's not even Halloween."

I breathed a sigh of relief and went toward Heather and the car. The look on my face must have been pathetic, so she put her arm around my waist and squeezed me a bit. She looked at me with surprise. "You're wearing a corset too?"

"Heather. Please. Just get me home okay?" I whined in a shaky, shocked voice.

She snickered and said, "Sure Pauline, or Paula, whatever your name is tonight."

"Heather, stop! I need to get home and then just leave me. Just leave me alone okay?" I was close to tears in my humiliation. This was going to be all over Facebook; Janet would see to that.

Finally she let me up for breath. "Look Paul, I'm sorry, but this is kinda weird, you know? Let me have some fun with it. I'll get you home and we can stay up and talk about it all night if you want to. It's okay; you're with me, your friend, okay?"

I did have a tear at the corner of my eye, and she caught it just before it was to drop, being careful not to touch my makeup.

Heather chose to sit with me in the back seat while Janet drove. After a minute or two of silence, she put her arm around me and her other hand on my nylon-encased leg, just above my knee. She felt the garter attachment.

"You look good," she whispered, "Very realistic. I didn't know."

I stared out the window in absolute humiliation. "Heather, please, stop it," I sobbed. I had crumbled under the weight of all this. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"It's okay. Shh...it's okay. I meant it. You look great. Now just be quiet and I'll get you home."

She kissed me on the cheek and hugged me closer. I shut my eyes and forced my tears to stop. Some plan. This had gone so wrong. I was outed by my own stupidity and I felt my life was over. Time to get the rope out and throw it over the rafters in the garage, climb up on a crate, jump off and end it all.

Janet stopped the car in my driveway. As I got out, she got one last dig in. "I always knew you liked big boobs," she said with a laugh.

To my surprise, Heather lit into her, "Enough Jan! He's had enough for tonight. Whatever happened is none of your business...or mine either for that matter. Give me your cell phone."

Janet refused at first but then Heather grabbed it out of her hand. "None of this is going on Facebook. And you're not going to mention this to anyone. I mean it."

She deleted all the pictures of me and handed it back.

Janet was taken aback, but the message was well taken. "Jeez," she said sullenly, "No offence meant. Just having a bit of fun. You're welcome for the ride by the way."

"Look Jan, it's okay," Heather said, trying to mend all fences, "Thanks for being the designated driver and helping out. Really. Now scoot and get back to the party." They hugged briefly.

I walked up the front steps and pulled a key from under the flower pot.

"Well, that's original," Heather joked.

"Whatever," I said. I was beaten, a broken shell at the moment. "Come on in," I said, "You might as well see everything."

We both stood in the foyer after the door was closed, staring at each other.

"So," she said, "Who are you, Paula or Pauline?"

I stared into her eyes. She knew. There was no Halloween party.

"Paula. It's Paula."

"Hmm, I like that name, always have."

We stood there awkwardly for a few more moments. I stared mostly at my feet; she stared at my eyes, with glances at my boots and nylons.

"So," she started, "How long have you been dressing up?"

"Take your coat off," I said, ignoring her for now, "We should have some wine."

"I will if you take yours off." She stood there smiling defiantly at me.

I closed my eyes and sighed. The locked chain around my waist would be obvious. More questions.

Her eyes scanned my body as I hung my coat up. "Mm, nice outfit! What's the chain for? Is that a lock on it? Weird accessory. Do you have the key in your uh, purse?"

"The key's in the bedroom."

Heather shook her head, puzzled, and said, "The bedroom. So, you chained and locked your boots on, and you chained yourself around your waist as well. Then you went out for a walk in the park. You really were out on an adventure weren't you? Did you want to get caught or something?"

"I'll get the wine," I said.

I made no further attempts to make excuses. It was what it was. I knew it and Heather knew it.

Sitting at the kitchen bar, sipping on our wine in silence, she finally asked, "Why didn't you tell me? I'm kinda pissed off that you didn't tell me you were gay. That would have explained a lot, why you didn't date much, why you're so kind and sensitive. I would have understood more about you."

Predictable, I thought. "I'm not gay. I don't know what I am, but I'm not gay."

Suddenly Heather's face broke out into a gentle and friendly smile. She clinked my glass and said, "So, you're a lesbian then."

That was unexpected. I snickered at first and so did she. Then we both laughed, which escalated into unqualified hilarity, so that we had to set our drinks down.

"I don't know why I never told you about this. I'm sorry. I just couldn't. You always wanted a man, a real man. I was never that."

She tilted her head. "What does that have to do with it?"

I didn't answer. I had revealed more than I had intended.

Then it dawned on her. "Oh my God! We dated... All these years. You, me...Paul, you never...you never even tried to kiss me, you know, or anything like that..." she blurted out excitedly.

Then she became gentle and pensive. "You mean you wanted me?" she said softly.

I couldn't take this. I got up and went to the bedroom. I couldn't do this. I unfastened my corselet, pulled down my panty girdle, sat on the toilet and had a pee and stared into the blackness of my closet. Suddenly Heather stood before me.

I couldn't believe she had followed me to my own bathroom. "Hetti! Would you mind? A little privacy please?"

"No! You don't deserve it. You kept me, your best friend, out of your world all this time. I want answers." She surveyed my garters and corselet, then turned back into my closet and flipped the light switch.

"Wow," she said, "You have more clothes than I do! How could I not have known this?"

"Yeah, a pretty weird closet for a guy huh?"

"No more weird than mine," she said mysteriously.

"Why? Is yours filled with guy's clothes?"

She walked down my aisle of silk and satin, rubbing her hands along the selections. "No, that'd be weird. I'll show you my closet some time maybe. If you know, if we're okay and all that." She blushed slightly.

What was going on here? I needed more wine.

When I stood up after my pee she watched me do up the hook and eye closure on my corselet as if she was studying me.

"Wow. Your penis sure disappears under all that doesn't it? Must admit, you sure transformed yourself."

"Thank-you," I said. This was getting more weird by the second.

Suddenly she turned toward me and said, "Where's the key to your locks?"

"On the bed. Why?"

"I'll get it and unlock you."

She leaned down and unlocked the chains locking my boots on, and then she did the same with the waist chain.

Her lips were within inches of mine, and for a moment her eyelids became hooded and dreamy as she leaned towards me. The sound of the chain falling from my waist and smashing against the bathroom tiles made us jump and step back from each other. My face burned, and Heather's looked red. This was not my friend; this was something else.

"Did you know I wear corsets sometimes?" she asked, trying to recover and sound nonchalant.

"Yes," I said, "I've always been so jealous. But yours aren't really corsets; they don't have laces."

"How'd you know that?"

"I notice a lot of things. I notice how your breasts bounce and jiggle when you laugh. I notice your lipstick and your eye shadow... I notice your..." My voice trailed off to nothing in embarrassment at what I almost said.

She seemed disappointed. "I see. So you notice things like that so you can wear them some time?"

"No, I notice them on you because they're touching you. I... they're on your body. I want to..." Then I lost my courage.

She stood there in thought.

I sighed heavily and said, "Well, okay then, let's go back to the kitchen and chat and drink."

She smiled sadly and said, "Oh Paula..." But she didn't add anything else. I was hopeful she would but she didn't. But my feminine name rolled off her tongue like a phrase in an Irish lullaby.

"I'll change back to Paul first," I said gloomily, "Give me a few minutes to get my clothes and makeup off. Back to reality."

"You don't need to."

"No, I better change."

Heather held up her hand and said, "Don't. Don't change Paula. I never knew you were here, and I want to see you and get to know you. So don't."

"You want to see me like this? Why?"

"You don't understand. I don't understand. Just keep your dress on. I...I, it's just nice, that's all."

I smiled and shook my head. "You must be just as crazy as I am then."

"Maybe I am. But I'm still your friend."

The next hour or so we drank wine and talked. For the first time ever I talked and she listened. I told her I had been cross dressing for years at home, and even under my male clothes at work and at some of the parties I went to with her and our other friends. I told her the significance of the locked chains tonight. I told her everything except how much I loved her. I had hidden and buried that forever, and even though I seemed to be dancing around blurting it out now, I couldn't be sure she felt the same way, so I remained the shy boy. I couldn't really be the leader on that, although I had almost spilled it all.

The wine ran out at about 11:30, so we switched to coffee. We became quiet and we heard a rising wind outside. Leaves flew past the window.

Suddenly she came to me in the love seat and sat beside me, cuddling as if to stay warm. Her left arm was around my neck; her right resting on my hard corseted belly just below my breasts.

"You know," she said, "That was the dumbest thing you've ever done, bar none."

"I know. I won't ever do that again."

"Why not?"

I looked at her as if she was crazy. "You just said it was the dumbest thing I ever did."

"That doesn't mean it was all bad. Look at us right now. It's like we know each other for the first time. That can't be a bad thing."

"True."

"Do you want to make love to me?" she whispered, looking up into my face.

I gagged a bit on my coffee and stiffened slightly with shock.

"I've always wanted to make love to you," I choked out.

"Then follow me to the bedroom and take your dress off."

I was speechless and in awe of her. I followed as she glided into my bedroom, looking back over her shoulder tauntingly. I needed help with my zipper and then I pulled the dress off quickly, letting it fall on the floor. I assumed she wanted me as a man, so I also pulled the corselet and the panty girdle off, allowing my penis to reveal itself in its upright position.

"Can you unlace me please?" I gestured to the laces on the back of my corset. "Then give me some time to get my makeup off."

"It's okay Paula; you don't have to," she said throatily.

My face burned with excitement. "Hetti, I assumed you, uh...I just thought you wanted me to be a man." The stress of that already caused my penis to droop.

"I like corsets, and I like your makeup" she said with a grin. Her eyes were hooded.

"Huh?"

She was on me then, her lips on mine as our lipsticks smeared and merged as one color. Her hands were on my breasts and she began to drop herself down, sliding her hands down my side to my hips and then putting my penis in her mouth. I swayed unsteadily in my stiletto heels, my shallow breathing rapid and puffy. Corsets didn't really allow for such increased need for air. I steadied myself with the bedpost and held her head with my other hand. As quick as she had started she pulled away and I looked down to see her red lipstick on my penis. She stood up and back and stared into my eyes as she took her top and skirt off, revealing a black bustier with lace at the cups forcing her breasts up, just barely hiding her nipples. The long garters held up her black stockings. There were no panties.

"Jesus Hetti, oh my God! Do you really want me? Like this?" I couldn't seem to let my shame and guilt go, but she threw it away for me silently as she pushed me onto the bed and in one quick motion positioned herself over me, her left hand on my right breast, her right hand holding my penis up toward her entrance.

She allowed me to enter her slowly and I held my breath with ecstasy. She enclosed me and threw her head back with a sigh and a lustful smile. I reached up and cupped her breasts in my hands, allowing my fingers to find their way to her nipples under the cups. They weren't difficult to find, hard and erect as they were. She just rocked gently back and forth, and I moved my hands to her waist with the second skin of Lycra and spandex moulding itself to her figure. Our legs entwined, nylon on nylon from the knees up, but I used my high heels to get leverage on the footboard to push back on her aggressive moves. Eventually we found our comfort spot, a rhythm where we smiled at each other. She moved her hands to my corseted waist and let me do the work now, bucking her, fucking her...

"Why," she gasped, "Why...didn't...you tell me? I, oh God, I Jesus, Paul, Paula, oh my God, I love you too Paula!"

She crashed down on me in orgasm, and I, hearing those words from her like in a dream, rose up to meet her, screaming her name and coming also.

When the main contractions subsided, she fell on me and we gasped and whispered absolute nothingness in each other's ears until all movement stopped. But I remained inside her, wanting more of her, as I touched her buttocks with the garter straps as tight as guitar strings. I grew again and she felt it.

Rising over me, we smiled at each other as I flipped her over, staying joined the whole time. Now I controlled the rhythm, and this time it was slower, more loving, more need and want than lust. We even whispered love to each other while we fucked. We each came together again, but it was longer, slower and mindful of each other's desires, more groan than scream, a profound guttural feeling from somewhere deep within us.

After some time, I rolled off and we laid there cuddling as the wind whistled and roared outside the bedroom window. We crawled under the covers, wrecking the bed in the most comfortable way.

Heather reached over to me and touched my mascara laden eyelashes. "Well, I guess that proves it," she said.

"Proves what?" I said, half asleep.

She grabbed my silicone breast playfully and said, "That you're not gay."

I caressed her breast in turn and said, "But I am a lesbian though, through and through."

We giggled softly, too tired for full belly laughs, and fell asleep, our lives changed forever.