I opened the door to greet him. Standing there with a nice smile and soft face, he wore a long coat and carried a gym bag. Pleased with his appearance, I presented a nervous smile and invited him to come inside.
The unit was small, with just the basics, a bathroom, a comfortable lounge chair, a double bed, a tv,a small kitchenette and a small table with a single chair to sit on.
I'd already setup my laptop to display output through the tv and was looping a series of erotic pictures which I had collected from the internet over the years.
I sat on the bed after our initial greeting.
He said, "Give me a little bit of time and I'll get myself ready for you."
Walking over to the small desk, he picked up the high-backed chair and took it into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
I sat there on the bed and waited, and I thought about how I got here. Meeting Frances had been such a coincidence. I was on some internet chat site which had dedicated rooms like 'Çhicks with Dicks' and 'Spanking at Home' and 'Men in Lingerie' etc. There was a few people in the chatroom and I had a usertag called 'Home and Hosed' ', which he liked and we started chatting there.
As it turned out, we chatted for hours getting each other excited with common interests. We discussed the things we would dress up in when our partners were out. The type of clothes we'd wear, and fetishes for womens hosiery dominated our dicussions. He said it was unusual to hit it off so clearly with someone you just met in a chat room.
After chatting for a while, I asked where he was from. He said Australia, which of course I was too. Then he told me he was in Brisbane. Straight away my pulse started racing, as I knew I soon had a work-related week long trip to Brisbane coming up. All I could think of was maybe, just maybe we would get together and act out some of those fantasies we chatted about. He said he'd like to get together in a room to dress up and play and maybe touch. Then I told him in that chat room about my work trip. Over the next month we chatted regularly until about a week to my trip and he asked me where I was staying.
This was the point at which all of this online fantasy that I had been carrying on for a number of years was about to get real. This fantasy life I had kept separate from my family, my partner and the opportunity to act on it had finally come around. I honestly never thought I would do this, but here I am sitting here on a bed waiting for him to get ready for me.
I told him the hotel I was staying at. At that point, this event was on.
When we chatted next, he gave me a phone number and said text me when I check in and we can make arrangements.
The night after getting off that chat I started to get extremely nervous and had quite the panic attack. That voice of reason which had so often guided my path through life piped up. "It's ok, he doesn't know your name, where you live, he doesn't know much about you at all, except for where you are staying. You can back out of this."
On the day I went to the hotel, I picked up the key and went to the room and sat on the bed. I picked up my phone to text Frances, but just couldn't do it.
Likewise the next morning before leaving for work, I picked up the phone, but still didn't have the nerve to text him.
But as the days went by, I could not stop thinking about Frances and this opportunity which has presented while I'm a long way from home. Each day I would get into a state of arousal as the thoughts became more frequent about what we could do, what he would look like. We had decided not to share pictures prior, hoping that we would hit it off regardless when we met.
Should I go through with the fantasy that I have held for years? It wasn't until lunchtime after sitting through a course in which I could barely concentrate, that I just decided I am going to go ahead with it. I am going to do this, yes I am!
While I had the bravery to do it, I got out my phone and sent him a text with the room number and told him when I'd be there.
It was now too late to back out. This Was going to happen.
After the course I got back to hotel, got out of my streetwear and took out all of my girly clothes that I had brought. There was so much there, you would think I was dressing for a week! I had a dress, two miniskirts, a variety of underwear, several pairs of hosiery, a range of tops and even a leotard, and some shoes.
After some deliberation I settled on a black torsollette and some black tights. I had a wig on, long blonde hair and some low heel shoes.
So here I am sitting on this bed with Frances in the bathroom getting ready for me.
The bathroom door opens, and I cannot believe what I'm seeing. The man who came in with a babyish face and a dimpled smile wearing a cap on his head is nowhere to be seen. The person looking at me is a stunning brunette with long hair, wearing a tight top with ample cleavage on display. She has a longish miniskirt made our of spandex I think. She has stockings on, although I cannot quite see the tops under the miniskirt. She has ballet flats on, and the makeup. Oh my the makeup is beautiful - bright red lipstick. This woman staring at me is gorgeous. The only sign to tell me she is a man is the bulge being covered by the skirt.
Frances says to me "Come here darling, let me have a look at you."
I make my way across the bed and stand up (nervously I must say). My pulse is racing and she says. "Darling come on into the bathroom and let me help transform you"
She leads me in there and I sit on the chair and face the mirror.
Frances starts to apply makeup on me and sets about the process of changing my hardened male look into a softer female look. By the time she's finished I'm in awe of the beautiful gurl looking back at me. It doesn't look like me. I mean it looks a bit like me, but its not me.
She brushes my hair and the sneaky little smile which has been threatening to appear is suddenly plastered across my face.
She says warmly "Up you get. Let's go into the bedroom"
We'd previously kind of agreed that we wouldn't take photos of each other, but still she asked me to unlock my phone.
"I'm going to take some photos of you on your phone so you can see how beautiful you are. You can take some photos of me too if you like to keep for yourself. I trust your discretion."
This was the first time I had ever done anything like this. My nervousness was ample evidence. Frances on the other hand appeared to have no nerves at all and seemed comfortable with how things were proceeding. I was pretty sure Frances had done this a few times before.
I unlocked the phone and Frances takes photos of me. Urging me to stand up, look this way, look that way, sit on the bed, raise my legs, do this, do that, stand up, bend over. Soon she has a stack of photos.
She stands up my phone on the bed side table and takes time to position it so that it's lens will capture whatever follows on the bed.
I'm standing at the edge of the bed, and Frances takes up position directly in front of me. I am in awe of this beautiful crossdressed woman and she says "Go ahead and touch me. I know you want to."
The truth is, I do.
