I wouldn’t say I had a fetish.

Isn’t wanting to look fabulous perfectly normal? I hate to say, but when you are the wrong side of middle age you readily grab any potential advantage with both hands. Particularly when you were born a male and your feminine side finally, finally, wins the identity battle.

And that’s despite the cruelty of the rolling years removing the last illusions of youthly glow. I never used to believe the cliché that ‘youth is wasted on the young’. In my humble opinion, it’s just taken for granted.

“Like so many other things,” I sigh.

My sullen mood is gratefully interrupted as the morning sun, tantalizingly, reflects the candy pink lustre of my nails in my morning brew; the pearl-white porcelain being the perfect stage on this beautiful bright day. Mesmerised, I can’t resist checking that each finger is still immaculate, meticulously shaped and in balance with its neighbour. Quickly, I pop the mug down to more easily compare both hands – gorgeous!

Mmmm, even though my chosen colour for the day is already decided, I can’t help but imagine the various other shades and how they would look. The familiar light-headedness starts to tingle from deep inside, oh my, the feeling of growing excitement threatens to take over.

“Enough!” I admonish with a grin.

The ticking kitchen clock, in return, mocks my lack of haste, “Only 2 hours! Don’t forget Kaylee!”

“As if I could,” I mutter with a sheepish grin.

Oh she is fabulous, a real treasure of a Lady and I am so incredibly lucky to have met her. Beautiful, a very slim size 10 and possessing a truly inspiring personality. She certainly helped me turn my life around, but don’t tell her that, modesty is also one of her most endearing qualities. Mine? Few and far between I’m afraid, I say sorry too much, I’m broke, next to no self-confidence and far too easily swayed by anyone a couple of decibels louder. I sometimes wonder what Kaylee sees in me, but don’t mention that either, or I’ll be told off again!

We have shared so much. So many fantasies. So much pain, so much heartache.

Wiping away a tear, I head to the bedroom where my days ensemble is already picked out and waiting. A beautiful black lace trimmed purple satin set, comprising a bustier, a deep suspender-belt and high-hip lace panties. My stunning slip lays next to my seamed stockings, also lace-topped with pretty black and purple detailing. Truly, is there isn’t anything worse than undies that don’t co-ordinate? Over the top a simple black dress, button up front with small pleats in the skirt – elegant but revealing. Shoes! Oh my, I’ll sort those in a minute!

Quick check for messages.

Good! Kaylee was going to let me know her ETA, so I’m not over-running again. Almost of their own violation my pampered fingers tap away until my favourite pic comes up, they do look so sexy working the phone, and I have to admit getting quite turned on.

“As usual,” I giggle.

And there she is! The easy sincere laugh, immaculate shoulder length hair and stunning eyes. Sign. I feel like I’m going on a first date again! With a trembling hand I pop the phone back on my dressing table.

We had initially shared a very nervous afternoon tea (on my part that is, being dressed in front of someone for the first time can be traumatic no matter how nice they are). This grew to at least once a month when we mostly chatted about life, girl stuff and compared mental notes of the people we met online. It was a giggle. Sometimes, if one us had had a bad week we’d share, commiserate, try to give advice and occasionally a warm heartfelt cuddle. For you see, even though I had a massive crush on her, Kaylee was honest from the outset, she preferred the company of guys. But, just the once, we were in glorious sync. And oh-boy.

My smile returned with a hot flush at the memory.   

God the time! Almost tripping, I dived towards the bathroom.

Any lady will admit there’s not much that compares to taking a hot sultry shower in heady anticipation of the hours to come. I don’t look too impressive naked, if I’m cruel I look terrible, which is why I don’t allow anyone to see me that way. But imagination is a wonderful thing. After a rigorous sandpapering, sorry exfoliating(!), and obscene amounts of creamy shower gel and moisturiser, it’s on with the Veet. After months of work I can honestly say I’m winning the battle with my nemesis, the smoothness my inner gurl craves is bearing fruit at long last.

Gosh my fingers look so hot running over my legs, I can’t help but caress my budding breasts too and then slowly along my arms, marvelling how they look with their bright pink finish against my skin.

“No, no, don’t you dare wake up. I’ve no time! But later maybe…” I giggle as I feel the familiar disturbance in my panties.

Plonking myself down in front of the mirror, wrapped in a massive towel, the same familiar face looks back, “There’s not much femininity staring back there hon,” I say to myself for the umpteenth time. After spending literally weeks in front of YouTube tutorials, armed with foundation, concealer, primer, powder and the other essentials of the makeup arsenal, I have finally worked out a routine that produces a reasonable transformation. Yes, I know, the hordes of the politically correct will stamp their collective feet and proclaim that ‘femininity’ is a social construct and burn those razors(!) – but I say, well, nuts. My eyes need all the help they can get, thank you!

But it is a fact that we are a product of where we live and how we were raised; for me looking fem means being reasonably pretty, dressing in sexy lingerie, wearing flattering clothes and teetering on silly heels. Shoot me.

The reflection gazes back knowingly, a small smile signalling agreement. War paint applied!

Now only one last thing remains.

I am average in almost every way and being plus size adds its own complications. But my one redeeming bodily feature are my nails. They are naturally shapely, long, all my own and perfectly cared for. In fact, you could say excessively so! I am also religious with my toes, to my mind there is no greater turn off then skanky feet. So, a weekly trip to my trusted pedicurist is not just a treat, but a necessity. I did say being plus had issues, one of those is being able to reach the bloody things, but I can just about manage painting them, which is the most important thing.

Taking a cotton pad from my industrial sized stock, adding a dab of varnish remover, I get to work. Carefully working the lotion into the sides of each nail and gently over the cuticles. In no time my bare fingers stare at me accusingly; do you know its funny how alien they have become after all the decades of manly neglect? I don’t know if other gurls feel the same, but for me, these ten little dabs of colour help affirm who Kasey is. So silly, but without them I feel completely naked. So much so that I may have, possibly, gone slightly off the rails with the number of bottles in my collection to date.

Looking briefly up from my work, I once again marvel at the wall next to me. Row upon row of my little friends, all neatly organised by shade and brand, each in its own place and precisely labelled.

But there’s a slight issue, I’m ‘colour blind’.  Meaning I’m only really sure of bright primaries.

It has some pretty major disadvantages, the worst for me is not being 100% certain which shade is green, red or purple! If these bad boys were all chucked into a heap, I’d have a nervous breakdown, no kidding.

In fact, Kaylee spent hours with me one wonderful winters night when I first mounted the acrylic shelves. I think partly in rebellion to the many received pic messages asking for this or that shade to be confirmed I chuckled. Why the manufacturers have to be so cryptic sometimes with the names is beyond me – what’s wrong with light, mid, dark? Countless letters and emails on the subject have gone predictably unanswered. But Kaylee is too nice to admit that was the reason she helped, I think she could see my excitement and just smiled in that gentle way of hers. But my panties growing increasingly wet may have been a slight giveaway.

The memory brought a smile to my red glossy lips. The tender love making that followed was so so special, with aspects of unresolved passion from myself taking Kaylee by surprise! My naturally ’cute’ persona giving way to delightful teenage yearning, a desperation that had us both panting in a glorious glow of sexual release.

We are more than just merely friends. Our lives, although very different, have shared the same anguish, the same tears that I suspect the majority of gurls feel. Can you imagine the torment of constantly balancing your male and female sides? Probably not, if you have been there you will know. It’s so much more than just ‘dressing-up’ and providing a comedic moment for the heteros, and in most cases everyone else. LGBQ+, yeah right. It encompasses the broad spectrum of human complexities, but I still feel an outsider, shunned by the popular crowd. Perceived as being in limbo.

We are either deemed gay men (I will never forget being told that by a site admin) or drag queens. It hurts. Times are changing but not for us I assure you.

My phone chimes, oh sweet Jesus! Panic rises as my worst fears are confirmed.

“She’s only 20 minutes away!” I cry.

Forgoing my almost ritualistic approach to painting my nails, I go into overdrive. Get dressed first! Slipping on my suspender belt, sliding up the stockings over my silky-smooth legs and attaching the clips in under a minute. Bustier next in a well-practised motion, my small breasts held seductively. Panties, mmmm, they deserve better attention as they glide over my nylons and into place. I tucked my balls inside myself and pulled their sheer lace prison into place. The sensation not producing a hardening clitty as you might expect but a copious flow of delicious precum. Shuddering, I pulled on my slip, followed by my dress with rapid buttoning. After a quick satisfying twirl in the wardrobe mirror I sat heavily again in front of the dressing table, trying to catch my breath. Wig! Again, quick honed motions saved the day, with dabs of spirt glue to save any embarrassment.

Oh my, “Hello Kasey!” I purr to my reflection.

A look at the time, yes! I will just make it. Uncapping the polish, carefully chosen to match my undies, I begin to apply. Almost humming to myself – middle stroke, side, side, next – my fingers are transformed into digits of beauty. The shimmering purple shade glinting in the spotlight, positioned just for that very purpose, as I finish the last nail. Under the dryer, my most essential tool, while blowing kisses at the grinning raven headed gurl in the mirror. Quick check, god I love that machine. On with the clear top-coat, not taking any chances as usual – middle, side, side. And under again. Perfect!

A second later the doorbell rings. My heart takes a swan dive up into my throat, while the familiar butterflies take to the air in my stomach.

Looking like a rabbit caught in headlights I add the finishing touch, my precious glasses. Do you know how hard it is for a guy to buy feminine glasses? And to hide your excitement from the frowning staff at the opticians as you do so? My advice, don’t go online for them. Be brave and have them fitted properly; you may be pleasantly surprised what lengths a sympathetic assistant will go to to help, but that’s a tale for another day.

The doorbell chimes again.

Rushing from my bedroom I slip on the tiled floor and literally slide like a pregnant penguin, managing to open the latch just before colliding.

“Oh fuck,” I squeak, my carefully planned preparations going up in smoke.

The laughter through the gap magically calms my mad blush of embarrassment, as I try to recover at least some of the grand welcoming I’d envisaged. Opening the door further while still in motion, sideways I hasten to add, the vision that was my dear friend came into view.

“Have I come at a bad time?” Kaylee said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Sorry!” I blurt, regaining a semblance of composure and a little footing.

“Kasey, how many times do I have to tell you? We are really going to fall out if you keep saying that.” Her smile full of genuine warmth.

“S…” a finger was placed on my lips.

“Ssssh. Now can I come in? Or shall we have tea in the corridor?” Her grin melting my heart.

Bowing and waving her in, she clicks exquisitely through the threshold.

Am I drooling?

A perfect size 10. The short, patterned skater dress displaying her mesmerising stockinged legs and enchanting 3” black sandals to perfection. Shaking my head, I hastily close the door and follow her into the living room. My practised walk a poor second to hers, how does she do that? Being shoeless probably didn’t help. Damm!

“Are those new glasses?” She enquires.

My eyes are still locked on her legs as she sits down.


“S…,” managing to flip my brain off autopilot, “Yes! You noticed.” I stammered.

“My you are nervous. Are you ever going to not be? They are really cute.” She smiled.


“The glasses! Jesus hon. Just come here,” she said patting the space on the sofa.

I skipped, yes skipped to comply. Can you imagine a 52 year old doing that? Oh who cares. Kasey had been shackled for nigh on four decades and had some serious catching up to do.

I dropped on to the sofa, grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat.

Laughing, she took my hand, “Wow! You have excelled yourself, that colour is beautiful.”

My huge smile being her only answer, my thought processes were totally consumed by her eyes.

“And does it match?” she purred.

You know, every so often something will catch you completely off-guard. This was one of those heart-stopping moments. Her hand released mine and rested back on my leg. I shivered.

Without speaking, it gently moved up my thigh, and with a slightly raised thumb began to expose the tops of my nylons.

All I could do was look with stunned immobility as the lace hove into view. Her bright red nails causing a stirring in my panties, as she took my hand once more and placed it next to hers on the pretty detailing.

“It does! How do you do it? After finding out you are as blind as a bat with colour you always manage to get the shade just right,” she laughed.

“Mmbmerrmm…” I managed.

“Oh fuck the tea!” Kaylee’s eyes took on a mischievous glint.

Her lips were on mine before my slow brain kicked into gear. I melted. Pulling her closer with my free trembling hand, I savoured the sensation of her enquiring tongue, the taste of her lipstick, her heady scent.

But all too soon she pulled away.

“Kasey, breathe.” She said with a hint of mirth.

I opened my eyes and stammered, “Whaa?”

“Cute is just what I need right now.” The glint returning.

“Oh!” I managed.

In one smooth movement she got to her feet; with the insistence of her hand in mine, I followed suit on shaky legs. Wearing the alluring smile that had already stolen my heart she headed to my bedroom, pulling me along as I skipped.

After a quick mental check, I relax a little. I’m generally untidy most days, but always make a special effort on these occasions, thankfully that includes my room. Pushing the door open, Kaylee looks back at me and just about suppresses a laugh.

“Expecting someone?” She winks.

And with a quick spin she places me with my back to the bed. The smile on my face must have said volumes.

“Oh Kasey, relax!” Kaylee laughs, taking my hands.

The warmth that spreads through me is indescribable, how can a gentle touch have so much of a profound effect? Nervously I gaze into her eyes, all the while hoping my childish yearning isn’t showing. I can feel the blush spreading across my cheeks and have to look down, for fear that this is all just a dream.

“You really do look so nice today, purple really suits you,” she says in her soft voice, her fingers slowly working my buttons, “I do like a dress that’s easy to remove.”

My modesty drops to the floor with the merest guidance from Kaylee; I start to unconsciously shiver at her continued touches.

“Look at me,” she gently instructs, “please don’t be ashamed Kasey.”

My eyes raised, oh she knows me so well, I look imploringly into hers.

“You have such a beautiful soul, trust me?” Leaving the question hanging in the air.

With the slightest of nods and a small smile I reply, “Of course, it’s just…”

“Sssh,” a finger touches my lips.

Kaylee takes my hands again, the tingling renewing as her fingers begin to trace a path up my arms. I can’t help but gaze at the colour of her fingertips, a beautiful deep bright red.

“You do have a one tracked mind Kasey,” as she notices the centre of my attention with genuine warmth, “I wore it especially for you.”

I can feel my clitty swelling, oh my, such a beautiful colour!

Her hands reach my shoulders, and glide effortlessly to my face. With the lightest of touches she pulls me into the sweetest of kisses. Our tongues seeking the other’s with increasing passion, our hands exploring with no hint of any remaining modesty.

I simply can’t resist any longer and begin to slowly drop to my knees.

With practised motions, Kaylee’s dress falls to her exquisite shoes just as my eyes draw level with lace panties. Her growing excitement stretching the frail fabric as I begin to plant small kisses, the heady scent invading every corner of my being. I need this, I need her. My hands slowly run up the back of her stockinged legs, savouring the feel of their smoothness as I begin to lick the imprisoned hardness.

“Mmmmm, oh Kasey. You remembered.” She coos.

I run my tongue along her shaft, the roughness of the fabric adding to the sensations I long to give her. Reaching the tip of my desires I can already taste her precum as it wets the lace, with gentle sucking I draw even more onto my eager tongue. She shudders.

“Yes,” was all I heard as she freed her sex.

Teasing, I run my wet lips over the end, parting them ever so slightly so my tongue can probe and add to her growing sexual tension. Knowing full well what I crave, what my quiet moans are demanding, she runs the fingertips of one hand along her clitty, her beautifully manicured red nails taking a gentle grip, at last, right before my imploring eyes.

With a whimper of pure ecstasy, I take her into my mouth…

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © All stories and audio recordings appearing on the Lush Stories web site by the Author Kasey are reserved. All rights reserved © 2013 – 2019

This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without prior permission by the Author Kasey

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