Surprise, Durprise!

Mike burst in. He looked - annoyed, surprised, puzzled. Well, so did I, not really unexpected in the circumstances. Mari hadn't said anything, just gone out to the car and drove off, obviously Carol had been waiting for her. Mike had a piece of paper in his hand, I read it in silence while he read mine. They both said pretty much the same thing really. Hell of a thing to find the day after Christmas.

We sat at the kitchen table, both had a scotch but we both realised drink wasn't really the answer here, that wouldn't solve anything. We just tried to analyse a bit what had happened, we'd both seen odd-ish behaviour in the past few weeks from our wives but again we had both put it down to maybe pressure of work, or Christmas, or something like that.

After Mike went home I had a quick look through some things in the bedroom and round the house. Carol had taken some of her clothes and personal items and a few other things. Including the lingerie Mari had bought her for Christmas, in retrospect that did seem a bit odd but if they really had 'slept together', OK if they'd had sex together maybe it wasn't totally surprising.

After a very difficult day we did decide to go down to the local pub in the evening but as soon as we went in almost, half-way through the first pint, a mutual friend Kathy and her husband came in and looked over towards us. She muttered to her husband, I couldn't remember his name, but it was obvious. Somebody, Carol or Marianne, had said something - they knew. We drank up and left, both feeling very sorry for ourselves.

Luckily, in a way, we both had to go back to work the next day, neither of us had any sort of extended Christmas-into-New-Year break then as sometimes happens. At least that occupied our minds, we were both glad of that at least. But again we were not feeling great. We needed something to shake us up. The next evening Mike did come round again, and we did hit the bottle a bit, cleared me out of scotch. I knew we couldn't go on like this.

"At least we don't have to worry about that party at the 'Bell' on New Year's Eve, Ben. Nearly everyone will know, I couldn't face that, could you?"

"Pity really, mate, I'd have liked to have gone. But yes, you're right."

I didn't want all the sympathy and sideways glances we'd get.

'Poor Ben, wife has left him, you know. And for another woman! Wonder what that really means' and so on.

But the next day before setting off to work, trying to pull myself together, I had an idea. A daft idea but.... I called in at Mike's house on my way, just stopped the car briefly outside, he'd left already. Just went up to the bedroom and looked round in there myself. A bit of an imposition really, yet I felt it maybe could be justified. Yes. It could work but I only had a couple of days.

That evening I called in, on my way home, at my opticians. With a slightly strange request but one he would be able to fulfil, in a couple of days. Then I went to visit a shop I'd been in once before, a few weeks earlier when I'd been looking for shoes which would fit, before I'd found out about the factory shop that is. 'Transform' does what it says, transforms. Men into women, it's a TV shop, for transvestites, for dressing up and selling clothes and accessories and so on. I knew what I wanted from there, OK so they weren't cheap, not cheap at all. But I was able to find what I wanted. I resisted the temptation to try them on, to practice that evening.

And the next night, again after work, I visited the shop Carol had told me about in the new town centre. There had been some local opposition to its' opening but the shop's success bore witness to the need for something like that. OK, Carol had bought her amazingly sexy dress there, it was still in the wardrobe at home. I'd started to try it on but given up, I had no chance there. But the shop didn't just do dresses, at the back of the store were all sorts of sex objects, dildos, toys, sex aids, all things like that. But exotic clothing too, some of it designed for men. TVs, that is. I was just a bit nervous about going in there but I really was determined. I had to make the whole thing work, all or nothing. I knew that the next 24 hours or so would decide.

"Can I help you, sir?"

It was a youngish woman, and not what I wanted. In that situation the best I could expect was an older, matronly woman, one who had some experience and would understand.

"Shoes. I was just looking for shoes."

"Err - are they for you, sir?"

I was a little perplexed, she had 'spotted' me straight away. Young and inexperienced she may have been but she certainly knew what she was about.

"ER - yes."

There. Admitted it. I'd actually told another person, a young girl indeed, that I wanted a pair of women's shoes, for me. She took it in her stride, asked me about sizes, colour, styles.

"High heels, court shoes, red."

She was good, led my quickly to an area round a corner at the back of the shop.

"Sometimes men are a little nervous about this sort of thing. Now, how about these?"

She showed me two or three pairs, all red but all a bright red, scarlet really, I suppose they would do but I wasn't sure. The assistant realised this.

"Well we do have a few others, more dressy if you see what I mean, quite a bit more expensive though."

She did pull out another couple of boxes, and the second pair looked to be just what I wanted, OK they were red but more matt rather than very glossy. And indeed dressy, very high heels, must have been nearly 6 inch heels with very thin chrome spike heels. Really a very glamorous pair of shoes as such things go.

"They are lovely, sir. But, sir, they are not cheap. £129,99, sir."

I gulped. But I knew, I had to have them.

"Will there be anything else, sir?"

Indeed there would, I had a mental list of several things, but when I mentioned some of the other items I wanted the assistant looked a little concerned.

"I think, sir, excuse me a moment." She went back round the corner, re-appearing a few moments later with an alder assistant in tow. "This is Monica, sir, she may be able to help you better, sir. More experience of these things you know."

That second assistant did indeed know her job, I ended up leaving the shop quite a time later with several items. I'm not really sure why that first young lady, Georgina it had said on her name badge, why she had baulked at continuing to serve me. There really wasn't anything naughty in what I wanted. The only problem I had with Monica was an argument over stockings. She seemed to think I should have quite thick ones but I wanted sheer seamed stockings. I was determined about that.

"But sir, I think you'll find these OK, they'll hide and leg hair, very good at that sir."

But the sheer stockings I did get. £12.99 just for stockings but well worth it. I did have one brief practice that night, then a long hot soak in the bath, and after that slept really well for the first time in about a week. The next day - a Friday - I rang Mike at lunchtime.

"How you doing mate?"

"Not too bad, apart from one or two comments and so on. You?"

"OK really Mike. Same sort of thing. But I've come up with an idea. How about we go to that party tonight anyway? At the 'Bell', it is. I could meet you there, at nine, how about it?"

"You can't be serious, Ben. I'd like to go in some ways but, really, well, you know.... "

"I know. But if I said it would be OK, would you then? Trust me, Mike. We're gonna blow their minds, all the pseudo-sympathetic hypocrites from the Rugby Club, it's them you're worried about isn't it? Give them something to really think about. I promise. Do you trust me really, Mike?"

"Sure I do Ben. If you say so? What you got in mind? Bring along a couple of really classy tarts? That would do it, is that what you've done?"

We had discussed finding a couple of 'girlfriends' to distract attention from our situation a few days earlier. That's what gave me the idea. Not that we'd been serious about it.

"OK Mike. Be there at nine. On the dot. Really smart, DJ and all. Let's do it. Got to go now, see you there."

I had to ring off, not to get back to work but because I'd arranged to have the afternoon off. I had things to prepare. I called in at Mike's house on the way to leave one item and to collect a few things.

The previous night I'd done something I'd not tried before, a complete 'depilation' of my body, except my head of course and between my legs. But chest, legs, arms, I'd used a heavy duty depilation cream, it had worked really well. Nobody at work had noticed that Friday morning, I wouldn't have cared if they did. It felt cold, not having that layer of hairy insulation under my suit, but work was heated anyway, I managed well enough.

That Friday lunchtime, well, it was about half past three by the time I had everything sorted on the bed and ready. Another shower, this time with a slightly flower-scented shower gel. Facial shave. Twice. Then I pulled on and up tight the 'thong' I'd got at the TV shop in town, one of those specially made for TVs, cut a little larger at the front to accommodate - what it had to accommodate. Red, of course. Then - everything else.

I'd bought the breast-forms at the TV shop too, they were expensive too, well over the cost of the shoes but good quality. Silicones, they were called, a very realistic textured surface, weighted just right I thought and a colour very close to that of my own skin. I lay on the bed for several minutes while the spray glue set, then stood up and felt for the first time something like what it would be like to have boobs. I needed the basque, the weight felt forward but the cups of the bra did exactly as needed, pushing the 'boobs' up and together. I saw the cleavage in the mirror. Wow!

It felt really gorgeous sliding on the sheer black seamed stockings, I checked on the clock as I sat at the dressing table doing my makeup, the practice earlier in the week paid off. I transformed myself, from guy, to woman - to slut. Sexy slut, that was what I was aiming for. To annoy the bitchy women who would have made comments about Caro and Mari being lesbians, with the implications that Mike and I weren't really man enough and couldn't perform. And just to make the guys jealous, of the sexy long-legged and provocative tart Mike had landed himself.

Really everything went smoothly - until the very end when I had to put on the wig. I'd bought another one, yet more expense, but this one was something else. Blonde again, yes, but much more luxurious than the other one I'd worn. Not BIG hair, but biggish, curly and slightly more than shoulder length, I had difficulty with the tiny clips which held it in place just behind my ears, similar to those on the other wig so I should have been used to them. Unfortunately I'd already stuck on the long raspberry-red finger nails, with superglue!

I managed the wig. Then I stepped into the dress. The glistening red dress Mari had worn, the one Mike had bought with 'Bethany' in mind. Sliding it up, easing first my arms into place, then my boobs. Lastly the lipstick and shoes, both matching the dress or at least nearly. I stood up in my first pair of 6" stiletto shoes. I breathed in for a few minutes as I inspected myself in the mirror. The dress looked gorgeous, very figure-hugging, a very arousing plunge neckline between my bulging 'boobs, very dark and deep, I know Mari had worn it well but I had done a good job on 'Bethany'. I was sure I could cause at least some arousal if I dared go ahead with what I'd planned. Decision time yet again. Could I go through with this? Hell, yes. Of course I could. There were butterflies in my stomach, my hands were shaking a little, my mouth was dry, I needed to settle.

I carefully made my way into the kitchen, pulling the curtains in there before switching the light on. Right now was NOT a time for visitors, I just hoped no-one would be taking pity on me being on my own that evening. I could do without that at that moment. I poured myself a small gin-and-tonic and sat in the lounge. I was grateful for the advice of the woman in the TV shop, the tight thong kept things under control. I looked in the mirror again. Twenty minutes left, it had taken me over five hours to prepare myself for this.

I poured another gin, another small one and checked through the contents of my handbag. Mari's actually, the same glittery red colour as the dress with silver-coloured clasp and chain, again to 'go with' the silver on the thick diamante choker and my long pendant earrings, and my rings, five of them in total, all silver-coloured with various clear and reddish stones. Diamonds and sapphires, at least that was what they looked like. I stood up and slipped on Marianne's mock fur coat, white, almost knee length. Ready!

The doorbell rang. I went down the hall in trepidation and paused by the front door.

"Hello?" I called, not too loudly.

I didn't want to lose the feminine tone of voice. I'd been practicing that too, evenings, for several days.

"Taxi."

Thank goodness. I opened the door and stepped out. The coat hid the excessive aspects of my attire, although from the tarty makeup and the ultra-high heels it was obvious I was in some way party-bound. I followed the driver down the drive. I really didn't care if any of the neighbours saw me. They might wonder exactly what was going on but in no way would I be recognised, not dressed as I was.

I had been worried about getting to the pub too early but we had a bit of a hold-up at the same Stratford roundabout I'd passed a few weeks earlier, on my previous 'Bethany-outing'. We pulled up outside the Bell at about two minutes to nine. I handed a note to the driver which included a tip slightly more than he might have expected, and asked him to wait for just a minute or two. I saw a couple of other cars pull in, then Mike's. Peering out of the taxi window I watched him as he moved out of the shadow into the brighter light near the pub side entrance, the one for the private rooms, where the party was being held.

He paused a moment there, looking round. When he didn't see 'Ben' or anyone else he recognised he opened the door and went in. I smiled a thank-you at the taxi driver, and walked quickly across to the same door. Or as quickly as I could, in such high heels and with such a tight dress on. I opened it, breathed deeply once more, and walked into the lobby.

5 Surprise party

Mike was with a couple he obviously knew, most of the people there were going to be from his work or from the Rugby club. They were all three passing their coats to the girl from the pub who had obviously been deputed to deal with them. The guy had an arm on Mike's. It seemed so obvious. Even at that stage of the evening he was oozing regret and pity, maybe muttering to Mike that 'I've heard about Marianne, I'm SO sorry ....' Exactly why we had intended NOT to be there.

I strolled, steadily and surprisingly confidently, across the lobby. All three began to turn. I noticed Mike was wearing the new 'dress' shirt I'd bought for him, the one I'd left on the bed, rather frilly and not the sort of thing to wear if you didn't want to bring attention to yourself. Like my dress, really.

"Hello, darling, sorry I'm a bit late"

I kissed Mike on the cheek and moved my left hand round his waist, sliding in over his bum so that the other couple, whoever they were, couldn't help but notice. This was the REAL start to the campaign, to Mike and I having SUCH fun that absolutely nobody could feel sorry, not for a guy with a glitzy big-breasted blonde hanging onto his arm.

All credit to him, this wasn't what Mike had expected, he reacted very well. The initial puzzled look hardly lasted half a second, it turned into a smile, then he properly reacted.

"Hi Bethany."

Good man!

I moved back a little as four or five other people, two couples I think and one guy on his own, came into the lobby. Great, an audience. I slipped off the coat and handed it to Mike, revealing all my glory. The reactions were wonderful, which is exactly how I felt at that moment. Most of the others there looked in my direction, I could feel the eyes on my bulging breasts and on my legs, on the shoes, on the rather exotic makeup, I was making exactly the impression I'd hoped for. I positively glowed.

Mike, on the other hand, was a little taken aback. He hesitated and began to mutter, I spoke up.

"Shall we go in, darling? I need a drink."

We went in, me holding firmly onto Mike's arm. For both reasons, we were the obvious centre of attention. Because they hadn't been expecting Mike at all, and because of who he was with. Not Marianne, obviously, but if she'd only been gone a few days where had he found this leggy blonde?

Mike got us drinks and pulled me to one side.

"Christ Ben, I never expected ......." he muttered quietly in my ear.

"Hush, darling." I put one red-taloned finger onto Mike's lips, then kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I'm NOT Ben tonight. OK? DON'T call me anything else except Bethany or maybe darling or honey until after we've got home. Work with me, Mike my love, this WILL work."

And I kissed him, not on the cheek this time but on the lips. Briefly, just a half-second contact, then I pulled away and smiled widely at him, again sliding a hand round and this time blatantly grasping his arse.

"So tell me, I'm a very vain girl, what do you think?"

Mike looked. He had to smile too, really he had to.

"Bethany. You look fucking gorgeous. I knew you'd look good in that dress but I never thought you would be such a babe. Nice hair, I like it, but those tits, and the shoes, Christ Bethany, you're just sex on legs. Damn near every cock in the room has reacted since you came in. Look, I wish you'd told me, maybe you've gone too far"

"Too far? No way my darling. We are going to have fun tonight. Big fun. Don't worry, my love. Certainly I'm going to enjoy myself, this is SO great, Mike. I LOVE it. Getting ready was a mindboggling experience but this is even better. OK, follow me."

I led my 'boyfriend' by the hand towards the bar and lifted myself onto a bar stool, crossing my legs and just feeling so hot, hot in THAT sense that it. I knew there were lots of people in there, men and probably women, looking at my long stocking-clad legs, at my ultra-high heels, it was such an experience. I finished my gin-and-tonic quickly, handing the glass to Mike.

"Yes please, Mike darling. Another. I'm gonna drink too much tonight and flirt with you damn near all the time. By the time I've finished absolutely nobody will be feeling sorry for you, certainly not the guys, they'll all be jealous as hell. They'll all want to be in your place tonight, fucking your gorgeous tart."

"Hi there Mike, are you going to introduce us?"

We both looked round, it was a man and his wife who I learnt were John and Janet, both friends from the Rugby club. We chatted for a few minutes, nearly all the time I held Mike's hand in mine, just occasionally releasing it to caress his bum. Then John led Mike off to meet someone about the accounts, I was left with Janet for a moment.

"You must come down to the club one day, Bethany, we have a meeting of wives and girlfriends every Thursday evening, lots of fun."

I was a bit nonplussed, I hadn't really been expecting an invitation to the WI or Ladies Circle or anything like that. I just smiled and said it sounded like a good idea and left it at that. As Janet left two other guys, both workmates of Mike's it turned out, both shot in to sit next to me. I let one of them get me another gin and just enjoyed their attentions. Despite the fact that I'd come with Mike and made my feelings pretty obvious, I think they were both trying to chat me up.

Mike came back and rescued me, and we circulated for an hour or so, spending quite some time sitting together alone, chatting quietly. If only the others had known what we were talking about! I urged Mike to caress my thigh, and kept touching him, and on the one occasion we got up to dance to a very slow number the groping began to get somewhere close to indecent.