The Decision
By TJ Williams
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He had looked cunningly for a hiding place but there was nowhere Irene wouldn't look. Then he thought of the garage. It was perfect, and for the last six months, that was where his beutiful clothes had lain, only to see the time of day when the time was right.
There had been a long talk about his cross dressing long before, when their eldest daughter had told neighbours and friends about his transvestitsm. Irene had tried to laugh it off as a young girl's fantasy, but deep inside she knew no one believed her.
As a self-employed electrician with a thriving business, Peter had started to put extra money away. He had taken on an employee and put all the profit from his work into a special account, whose balance was growing quickly. He was certain that Irene was going to throw him out very soon, but he was determined to be ready financially, anyway.
He went up to their bedroom, and once there it took him seconds to strip naked and empty the carrier bag onto the bed. He caressed each article before putting it on - first panties, then tights. He had often worn stockings, but that was in the good old days when Irene had joined in with his dressing.
Being a flabby man, he wore a corselet, the tightest he could cram himself into, then a full slip. He looked at the dress now lying gracefully on the bed.
He slipped his feet into the high heels and walked around the room. Feeling feminine, he sat at the dressing table mirror and applied his makeup before getting into his dress. Finally, he put his keys and money into his purse.
"Oh Alison, you do look gorgeous," he said with a slight chuckle, standing below the full length mirror. He turned around several times, allowing his flared skirt to sway. His hair was long and he was very good at styling it. His hair, along with his two pierced ears, were the only two items Irene had not managed to get him out of. He continually wore gold stud earrings, and often coloured his hair, much to Irene's disgust.
He changed his earrings to long coloured ones. By the time he styled his hair, he looked very feminine indeed. Now, he had five hours to be a woman, and he decided the first job was to make a coffee.
As she walked to the kitchen, her slip moved back and forth, making her feel elegant and sensational. She sat in the lounge sipping her coffee with her little finger cocked. She was expecting no one, and no one would call...
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